Tienimi Stretto
by iceymoon303
Summary: Lovino Vargas is a detective with a poor attitude and a dark past, driven to the side of law by pain and revenge. After his partner quits, he is paired with specially recruited Antonio Carriedo, who becomes something more than just a co-worker. When deaths linked to the Italian start popping up over the city, Lovino begins to question everything he thought he knew. Spamano. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 **Hi everyone! So here I have a new story that I've been planning on writing for a while now. I'm aiming for it to be quite long, though I'm not sure how many words yet or when it will be done. I love the idea of a badass Lovino, so what better than to make him a detective? Well, nothing is ever THAT simple…**

 **Anyway, this story will contain romance, drama, action, and comedy. Fun! So I hope you are looking forward to it as much as I am.**

 **Rated M: for language, violence, death, sex, and mature themes.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters, unfortunately… If I did, all my ships would be canon and Spamano would get more screen time… *sigh*…**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1**_

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

No—by the way Lovino casually crossed his arms and looked over his nails for any imperfections—he certainly wasn't kidding.

The Italian-born looked up from his fingers to the man fuming in front of him. The steam was practically coming out of his ears as he clenched his fists and glared at the disinterested expression on Lovino's face. Any on-looker would have found the scene comical. Even Lovino wanted to smirk at the laughable image, but he controlled himself. The last thing he needed was the man throwing a chair out the office window like last time.

Yeah...his boss hadn't been too happy about that.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" he asked, sitting on the edge of his desk, placing his leg neatly on top of the other. This only made the man growl more.

Lovino made a mental note: _those blinded by anger or discontent become more enraged when their opponent is composed._ This was very true.

A shaking finger pointed angrily at Lovino.

"That was a collaborative effort. You can't just take all the credit!"

Running a hand through his auburn locks—careful to avoid his stray curl—Lovino let out a long, weary sigh. Just like the chair, this wasn't the first instance he had been accused of "taking all the credit." He had heard it several times before, just like everyone else in this office.

Hence, why no one was really paying attention to their argument: it was old news. Seriously—if the workers had paid a dollar for every fight they witnessed in their building, they'd make well above their pay rate.

It wasn't as if he tried to be unfair to his partners. If there was one word to describe Lovino, it was honest. Brutally and painfully honest. And—as so many times before—he was truly just being frank in his reports. Every partner that was assigned to him turned out to be exactly the same every time: naive and in-over-their-head. These fuckers wanted the lavish perks of being a detective without even taking into account the actual work you needed to put in.

No one won in this job. They were bound to witness death, tragedy, and agony—and not be able to do a damn thing about it. The faster these idiots realized it, the better.

The Italian lifted himself off his desk and stood in front of his infuriated partner.

"The only things you were good for on this operation were being bait and distracting the enemy. I suggest the next time you decide to hide like a fucking coward instead of fight, you stay out of the way and be thankful I saved your sorry ass. Got it, dipshit?"

With a smirk, Lovino turned away from the shocked man and walked back to his desk.

Ah, like the calm before the storm, he knew it was coming. In 3…2…1…

"Y-you…you ASSHOLE! That's it! I can't do this anymore! I QUIT!"

And, there it was. Those words were like sweet music to his ears every time he heard his "partner" say them. He looked back along with the rest of the office at his now ex-partner, who spun around and headed towards the exit to leave.

But not before, of course, grabbing the new sleek stapler they had just bought and throwing it as hard as he could at the polished, marble floor. The machine broke into a few large pieces, the un-used staples springing out in all directions like fresh popcorn.

Damn it. Lovino had really like that stapler too. Well, at least it was better than paying for a new window. They were pricey son-of-a-bitches.

No one moved for a few moments, silently honoring the man who had lasted two weeks working with Lovino Vargas. If anyone had the reputation for being difficult, it was Lovino. Ever since the day he had waltzed into the office four years ago and demanded a job fresh out of school, the man seemed to have a permanent chip on his shoulder directed at anyone who tried to interact with him. He never tolerated ineptitude or any mistakes. Never cut any of his colleagues or co-workers a break. Never made any close friends. But—most of all—never failed a job.

And that was the reason he was one of the most feared and respected detectives in the office.

Acting as if he hadn't just been involved in the commotion five minutes ago, Lovino sat down at his computer and started typing. He wasn't stupid—he knew that they were still staring at him. Well, he wasn't surprised—these were the same co-workers that chatted and gossiped with each other more than they worked.

"You know, you didn't have to be so harsh on him. He was at least better than the last guy."

His hands stalled on the keyboard. A groan escaped his lips as he looked up at his blonde assistant—a college graduate named Matthew who just so happened to be the younger brother of his boss's boyfriend. Well, it was great to know that nepotism was still in play in America…at least some form of it. He supposed he liked this one. Lovino rolled his eyes and went back to typing.

"Yeah, trying to get in my way. The idiot couldn't even shoot straight. I think they're lowering their standards at the academy now-a-days," he muttered, squinting his eyes to stare at something on the computer screen.

Mathew nodded, his eyes looking towards the path that the disgruntled employee had gone.

"I mean, this is the fifth time a partner has quit on you. You know how Arthur gets when you don't have someone to work with."

Stopping again, Lovino grimaced, "Shit."

Matthew had a point. As soon as he lost a partner, his boss didn't let him work on any cases until he had one again. It was a policy he carried over from his job in England, which aggravated the life out of the Italian. No matter how good he was at his job, it didn't matter. A detective could not go on a case alone. The last time his partner blew up on him, it took three weeks to find a new one. He had not only been bored out of his mind, but it had been an undeserved hell.

Lovino swallowed. How long would it be this time?

As if the universe was giving him the answer to his question, a British voice spoke from behind them.

"Vargas, come with me." When Lovino scowled and turned around to face his displeased boss, the man added a strict " _Now_."

Standing up and sharing a quick, knowing glance with his assistant, he followed his boss into his large office. Arthur Kirkland was a Briton to the core—with shelves filled with hundreds of different books, and framed maps of the world on his walls (Lovino wouldn't have been surprised if he had been a traveler or pirate in a past life). The carpet on the floor was velvety and intricate, while the elegantly carved desk on top of it was neatly organized. The office was a stark contrast to the rest of the buildings and offices, which held a modern look. Such were the perks of being the Chief of the Chicago Police Department.

Annoyed by the direct sunlight coming into his office, Arthur moved to close his silk curtains before settling down at his desk. He signaled for Lovino to sit across from him, which had become routine after the many times he had been called into his office. Lovino easily complied, lounging in the comfy chair and waiting for his boss to start.

"Lovino, it has recently come to my attention that Detective Roberts just quit after having a fight with you. Is this true?"

The Italian reluctantly nodded, not liking the tone his boss was using, as a parent would use with a child. Arthur just sighed and massaged his forehead.

The man's eyes fluttered closed, "What was broken this time?"

"The damn stapler." Lovino replied quietly, crossing his arms and looking off to the side.

"The one we just bought? Bullocks. That was a good one, too," Arthur looked at Lovino, "All right, care to explain what happened?"

A groan rumbled in Lovino's throat as he sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Pretty much the same thing as always. We went on a drug bust. We tried to sneak in, but the idiot just had to slip up and knocked over a pipe. The enemy heard it and swarmed us, and you know what the coward did?—Well, I'll tell you—He _ran_ and hid outside. Can you believe it? I was forced to deal with them all by myself! By the time back-up got there, I had exhausted most of my strength and barely had enough energy to grab the evidence. That bastard didn't do a damn thing. That was why he got pissed when I filled out the case report, since I didn't sugarcoat his contribution."

Arthur nodded throughout his story, only moving to sip the tea that had magically appeared on his desk. It was a mystery Lovino never understood nor wanted to know about.

Brushing a hand through his hair, Lovino looked at his boss, "Look, chief. I know I've been telling you this forever, but the partner thing really isn't working. Five so-called partners have failed to keep up with me—and maybe it's meant to be that way. Come on, you know I'm damn good at my job, and a lot of people don't like that. Just let me work alone."

The Briton stared at the detective for a while. With a sigh, Arthur placed down his cup.

"I applaud your success on the mission. This was a dangerous case that I knew you wouldn't have trouble handling. I agree, Detective Roberts' actions were unacceptable by any terms. However, this situation could have gone more smoothly if you had actually tried to work with him—and don't lie to me, I know you didn't." Lovino closed his mouth, slowly lowering his finger. Arthur continued.

"You are supposed to work together with your partner. It's not just for you to help them—it's for them to help you, too. You'd be surprised by the results a good partnership can achieve, more so than any individual working alone. Lovino, you're a brilliant detective—more so than most of the people in this office. But you must understand, a boy can only go so far on his own. It is only through—"

"—working with others that he becomes a man. I know, I know. How many times have you told me this?" Lovino shot him a glare, crossing his arms and scowling.

Arthur only smiled. "And I hope one day you'll actually understand it. Now, before you even ask, I know you're curious about when you'll get your next partner. To be honest, I saw this coming, so it won't be as long as usual."

Lovino let out a sigh of relief before standing up and stretching. How long had he been in there? It always seemed like hours. A quick glance at the wooden clock hanging on the wall behind Arthur told him the day was over. Thank god. He could go home now.

Opening up the door with every intention to leave, Lovino stopped to voice one last request.

"Just make sure the bastard can at least properly shoot a gun. I'm not wasting any more of my precious time looking after any more idiots."

Without looking back or waving goodbye, the Italian left the room.

Arthur sat back in his chair, sipping his now lukewarm tea and making no indication of moving. Finally picking up his old, yellow telephone, Arthur dialed a number and held the phone up to his ear. He watched absentmindedly as the cord vibrated at the sudden movement. He didn't snap out of his trance until he heard a deep French voice on other line.

"Well, well, well. It is quite a wonderful surprise to hear from someone as busy and as lovely as you. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Arthur sighed, already tired and used to the immature antics of the man. "Save the pleasantries, Francis. I have a something to ask of you."

A rich laugh rang out in Arthur's ear. "Anything for a dear old friend. What shall it be? Sex techniques? Ménage a trois? A personal visit from the sex king himself?"

The Briton just scoffed. "Bloody hell, I can't deal with you. I want—oh god, I can't believe he even went by this—Spain." This piqued the Frenchman's interests.

"Oh? You want my sexy Spanish friend? Unlike myself, I don't know if he's available for—"

"Blimey! Just stop—right now. I have a job to offer him," Thinking over his choice of words, Arthur quickly added, "A professional one."

Hearing a significant amount of rustling followed by silence, Arthur was unsure of what to think. He was about to ask him if he was still there when the man finally spoke, now in a serious tone.

"All right, Arthur. Explain to me what this is about."

Another sigh escaped the British man's lips. He never had it easy, did he?

Arthur placed the telephone back on the hook an hour later. By the time he had finished negotiations, it was well past closing time. The man groaned, massaging his forehead and thinking about how good dinner was going to taste once he got home. Even if his lover was American, the man still knew how to cook. Thank god.

Arthur glanced over at his shut office door—the one that Lovino had exited out of. He thought back to the boy's request, a small smirk playing on his face.

Pulling out a file from his left drawer and placing it on his desk, the man lifted a photograph of a smiling man with bright green eyes for him to peruse.

"I assure you, Lovino—that will be the least of your problems."

~x~

Lovino pushed the door open to his small apartment at exactly 5:54 PM that night. It was always dark when he entered the living room, with a small overhead light that came on once night fell over the city of Chicago. His large furry cat would greet him with a "Meow!" and a leg rub at the door, which would then prompt him to go into the kitchen and feed him.

Why he decided to take note of these things, he had no idea. It probably reinforced his feelings of security, as long as all these factors lined up. Satisfied with that answer, Lovino opened a can of cat food, and watched as his fat cat launched itself onto the counter and ravaged the plate he had just finished preparing. The Italian scoffed. Needy bastard.

Lovino pulled off his beige pea coat and placed his black messenger bag on his dinner table, forgetting them momentarily as he walked over to the table next to his flat screen TV. There, on its wooden surface, was a simple picture frame that the Italian had had for years. It had gathered a little bit of dust no matter how often Lovino cleaned, yet it still held the same vibrancy and life as when it had first been taken.

He picked up the object, a small, painful smile taking over the Italian's face as he stared down at the two young boys on the monkey bars in the picture. One he could identify as himself and the other a boy who looked very similar to him. The only main difference between them was their expressions: Lovino wore his signature scowl, while the other boy wore the largest smile you had ever seen.

"Hold on, Feli. I'm so close." He whispered, tapping his fingernail gently on the glass. Lovino placed the picture down a second later and pressed the on-button on the side of the TV.

Sounds of fighting from an action movie filled the living room as the man left to the kitchen to get dinner started. His hands already going to work, it seemed he didn't really have a choice in the matter as he pulled out the long packets of noodle and began boiling water.

So, pasta it was.

~x~

The office was bustling with work as Lovino made his way through the front doors with a donut in one hand and a coffee in another. He had been late getting out of the apartment due to his alarm, which just had to run out of batteries the night before. He barely had time to feed his demanding bastard of a cat and grab breakfast before speeding through traffic and arriving at work a minute before punch-in time.

Taking a bite of his glazed donut and a long sip of black coffee, Lovino walked down the hall towards his cubicle. He was about to turn the corner when his assistant appeared in front of him. He wore a face of nervousness, which meant that he was going to tell Lovino something he didn't want to hear.

Just fucking peachy.

Abruptly stopping, the Italian gave him a sharp glare.

"What the hell, Matthew? I understand that we're busy but I just got here so save whatever you're going to tell me until I finish my damn breakfast, capiche?"

Lovino tried to move around him, but the assistant wouldn't budge. He held a look of uncertainty and fear that made the Italian more annoyed.

"Ah, but Lovino, it's not—" Shaking his hands, Lovino cut him off.

"Don't care. Save it for later." He pushed past the tongue-tied boy and rounded the corner, making his way towards his desk.

That was, until he saw that it wasn't empty. A tan man with chocolate curls sat behind his desk, leaning over and inspecting the area's shelves and drawers.

Lovino froze in his tracks, anger bubbling up inside him as the bastard sat in _his_ chair, touched _his_ things, and didn't seem to show any hesitancy on his stupid face. Regaining his senses, Lovino marched right up to the man and (gently placing his coffee and donut off to the side) slammed his hands onto his desk, making the man jump.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

The man looked up at him with startled emerald eyes, which framed his attractive face nicely. Not that Lovino cared. The more The green-eyed bastard just looked up at him with innocent eyes and a bright smile.

"Buenas dias! I am getting to know ah—Lovino Vargas. Apparently he likes the Spice Girls!" the man held up a CD with the five female singers on the cover, "How fantastico!"

Lovino's eye twitched, quickly grabbing the CD and shoving it in a random drawer. Fuck, he liked the Spice Girls, ok? They're a damn good band!

Shooting the man a death glare, the Italian clenched the sides of his desk hard enough to leave dents in the wood. He didn't know who this bastard was nor why he was looking through his things. The only thing he knew was that someone was probably going to end up tossed off the side of the Chicago River, mafia style. And that someone was the idiot currently grinning in front of him.

"You didn't consider to—oh, I don't know—ask him instead of rummaging through his belongings? Huh, bastard?"

The man just blinked at Lovino, about to say something before closing his mouth again. Eyes widening and looking around at the misplaced items on the desk as if finally understanding the situation, the bastard landed his eyes on Lovino.

"You don't think…uh…he's going to be mad about this, do you?"

Wow, he was more stupid than he thought. Lovino scowled at the man and leaned forward, putting on his best intimidating glare.

"What do you think, idiot?"

The bastard just chuckled, not at all fazed by the angry man. That pissed the Italian off. Who did this guy think he was?

"Oops. Well, I'll just put everything back and everything will be good, right?" Said idiot put on his brightest, slightly apologetic smile, which only aggravated Lovino even more.

"Fuck this." Lovino turned away from the man and opened his mouth, "CHIEF!"

Pushing himself off the surface and heading for his boss' office, Lovino slammed open his door. Arthur sat at the desk, casually reading the morning issue of the Chicago Tribune.

"You know, the sign outside of my office specifically requests for you to knock. It is not an invitation to barge in whenever you see fit." Placing down the newspaper, Arthur at his employee, "However, I do need to mention—"

Lovino waved his hands, receiving a questioning look from his boss. "Whatever you are going to say, hold it. We have bigger issues on our hands. Has the mental institution down the street called?"

"What? No, they haven't. Why—" Lovino cut him off to continue.

"BECAUSE...because there is one of their patients in our office, going through my fucking stuff!"

Arthur arched an eyebrow at him, following the direction of Lovino's pointed finger. Leaning over his desk to get a better view, the old man saw the brunette man chatting animatedly with an employee at Lovino's desk. Arthur only chuckled.

"Lovino, that's not an escaped mental patient. Why on earth would you think that?"

The Italian just growled. Was no one going to take him seriously?

"Because he's fucking stupid, that's why! Who does he think he is, saying he was "getting to know" me by looking through my things. How does he even know who I am anyway?"

"That's because he's you new partner."

"Exactly! I should march right up to—wait, what?" A shocked look came over his face when he realized what his boss had said. Arthur just looked unamused.

"The man at your desk is you new partner. Detective Carriedo. He just came in today."

Lovino suddenly felt weaker the longer he continued to stand. He fell back against the cushion of the chair, running a hand messily through his hair.

"You've got to be _fucking_ kidding me."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. R & R! :) Stay tuned!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 2**_

Maybe this was all a dream.

Not only did he get a new partner in less than 3 days, but the one that was picked for him was a complete idiot. Yeah, there's no way this could have been be real! It was too absurd.

"What are you doing?"

Lovino looked up to his puzzled boss, removing his fingers from the abused skin on top of his arm.

"Trying to wake up from this damn nightmare."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Lovino..."

"Ah!" The Italian threw up his hands, "Well what am I supposed to do? You just told me the bastard outside is my new partner. What were you thinking?!"

Calmly staring at the fuming boy, Arthur let out a sigh.

"I assure you that Detective Carriedo was intentionally hand-picked to be your partner. He comes from an elite private unit, and holds skills you haven't even been taught yet. I suggest you get to know him before you judge him, Lovino."

Lovino flinched, staring down at his lap like a child who had done something wrong.

He hated whenever Arthur brought that up. The Italian was well aware that he wasn't liked very well in the office, no matter how much Arthur told them not to judge people based on how they act or appear on the outside. He had accepted that fact a long ago, used to the expressions of disapproval and distaste of the other employees targeted at his sour attitude. Expectations were never high for anyone he would meet.

But, whether Lovino noticed or not, Arthur was one person who saw right past the stone wall that protected the boy's heart. He knew that it was Lovino who gave the left over bagels and donuts to the homeless family down the street, and that it was Lovino who adopted that cat that someone abandoned in front of their station last winter.

Lovino was the perfect example of a misunderstood man, and yet he did nothing to change that. Sometimes it irked Arthur, and sometimes all he wanted to do was just slap some sense into him. He knew, however, that the only one who could do that was the man himself. Ah, Arthur's job was never an easy one.

Covering his mouth as he leaned into his hand, Lovino locked eyes with his boss.

"All right, I'll give him a chance. But that doesn't mean I have to work with him."

"I had a suspicion you'd say that."

Arthur rolled his eyes, pulling open his right hand drawer and grabbing a folder. He placed the beige packet at the edge of the table, urging Lovino to lean out of his chair over to look at it. When he caught sight of the packet name, the Italian's eyes widened—hands instantly reaching out to snatch the folder, but it disappeared from his sight before he could do so. A winning smirk played on the lips of his boss as he looked over the folder, clearly tempting the young Italian.

"This is what you've been trying to get your hands on, hm?" A smirk found its way onto his boss' face, "If you actually make an effort to get along with Carriedo, I'll give you this."

Lovino was silent for a moment, eyes filled with an edge of confusion, fear, and skepticism. "H-how do you know about that? No one knows about that."

Arthur gave him a look, "Lovino, I am the Chief of the Chicago Police Department. It's my job to know these things." Opening the drawer once again placing the folder back in, Arthur sent him a sympathetic smile, "Don't worry. I'm not going to question your intentions. Just keep doing your job, and try to get along with your co-workers."

The Italian shot him a long glare before, finally, nodding. With Lovino's confirmation, Arthur stood up and walked towards his office door. Holding it open, the man turned to Lovino.

"Good. Now let's go properly introduce the two of you, shall we?"

Lovino wasted no time getting up and moving out of the room. He grimaced when he noticed that all the women had congregated around his desk to talk to Carriedo, who was chatting with them about what sounded like farming or some shit.

"—and we never would get rain! It'd always be sunny and hot and it was great because I got to go in the fields and tend all the crops!"

All the women swooned at his Spanish accent, listening to every word he spewed from his mouth as if it would somehow decide who lived or died. A growl erupted from Lovino's mouth as he watched the man throw his head back in sweet laughter. He was about to smack that stupid expression off the idiot's face, but held back when Arthur spoke up first.

"Now, now, ladies. Please give Detective Carriedo some space. Back to work."

Recognizing that the command was given by the Chief, the women complied immediately, but not before letting out a few 'boos' and reluctant sighs.

Carriedo waved goodbye to all the women as they dispersed before looking up at his new boss.

"Good to see you, Chief!" When Carriedo caught sight of a pissed-off Lovino, the man brightened, "Ah! Uh... I didn't catch your name."

"I never said it, dips-" Arthur gave him a sharp look, "dip-depending on our previous circumstance. But I suppose I'll tell you now." By the way Carriedo was looking at him like he was telling what the cure for cancer was, Lovino faltered a little under his intense gaze. "Ah, L-Lovino Vargas."

Carriedo brightened even more than before, which the Italian didn't even know was possible.

"So you're Lovino!" But just as fast as the smile had reached the man's face, a frown had replaced it.

"Wait…you're Lovino?!" The auburn-haired man wondered what was wrong. Had the women already told him about his reputation? About how he had no friends and was a nightmare to work with? Fuck, here he was, actually planning to try when the bastard already was trying to judg—

"I'm sorry."

Huh? Well, that wasn't what he had expected. Lovino blinked at the apologizing man, who had stepped away from the desk to stand next to them.

"You see, where I come from people are close and have no sense of personal space or private life. I tend to forget that Americans aren't the same way." He laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "Oh, but I put everything away!"

Oh. That's what he meant. Lovino looked back at his desk and found that the man was right—It was spotless, as if no one had even touched it. In fact, it even looked better than when Lovino had cleaned. Not that he'd ever admit that.

Well at least everything looked norm—wait. Why wasn't he more upset about this?! That Spanish idiot and his stupid grin…

"Uh...just don't do it again. Got it, bastard?"

Well, he couldn't stop that one. The word 'bastard' and 'Lovino' were best friends in the dictionary. Holding up his hands in defeat, Antonio shot him a cute boyish smile.

"Of course not, Lovino."

Lovino eyed the amicable smile on the bastard's face and clenched his teeth. That expression annoyed him somehow. Why was he so happy? It was almost…too friendly.

"Whatever." He muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

"I'm Antonio, by the way. Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo." Titling his head a little, the Spaniard held out a tan, worn hand. Lovino guessed he wasn't lying about the fields. "I am looking forward to working together!"

The Italian glared at his outstretched hand skeptically, making no move to shake it or reject it. One look from his boss had him releasing a sigh, taking the warm hand and giving it a proper shake.

"Okay. Let's not try to kill each other, yeah?" The Spaniard let out a sweet laugh, one that put a small smirk on the Italian's face.

Yes, he would listen to his boss' words and see if the Spaniard wasn't half-bad. Not only did he not want to change partners soon, but he also needed his hands on that folder that his boss had shown him. So Lovino Vargas would play nice.

…Well, as nice as he could get.

Arthur looked over the new duo, which was sizing each other up—though possibly for different reasons. Massaging his forehead for what felt like the thirtieth time that week, Arthur interrupted them.

"All right, all right. It's good to see you two getting along, but we have work to do."

With the release of their long handshake, Lovino and Antonio nodded, following their boss as he took them to the cubical next to Lovino's.

"This is where you will be working, Carriedo. You will be placed next to each other in order to ease communication and collaboration on cases. Understood?"

The duo nodded again, Antonio placing his messenger bag in his desk seat and Lovino standing off to the side. Pulling out something from his pocket, Arthur handed Antonio what appeared to be his badge. Lovino thought back to when he first received his—a time when he was just a year out of the academy who had finally achieved something on his own. It was truly a monumental moment in his life—one that would change his future forever.

Antonio felt the badge's grooves and nicks, smoothing his thumb across the shiny metal which gave him the power to protect the people. The scowl on Lovino's face almost disappeared when he saw the man looked up, something shining in his eyes and a proud smile on his lips.

"Gracias, chief."

Not one for public displays of emotion, Arthur coughed and waved him off.

"Not a problem. Now I expect both of you to be working together for a long time, so I want you both to spend the rest of the day getting to know each other. "

What? His boss had to be joking. He still had a ton of files to go over! Lovino stepped forward, thinking of a way to wiggle out of this. "But, chief—" However, after working with Lovino for four years, Arthur knew the objection was coming.

"Don't worry about it. I've already asked Bondevik and Densen to cover you."

Lovino's mouth gaped open. Not only was his boss letting him take the day off, but he was letting those Nordic bastards work on one of his cases?! Oh, _fuck_ no.

The man was ready to protest when he felt a gentle but firm grip on his shoulder.

"That sounds great. Right, Lovino?" If looks could kill, Antonio would have been have been slaughtered a thousand times over. But…the way the man looked at him with such genuine, happy eyes made him reconsider his plea. Did he really want that sparkle to disappear from them? Not that he really cared. It didn't matter how the bastard would feel anyway. More importantly, Lovino wouldn't have minded a day off after all the work he put into his last case. Casually shaking the hand off of him, the Italian crossed his arms and scowled.

"I guess it's fine."

Arthur blinked and stared at Lovino, expecting him to put up more of a fight. His eyes shifted upwards to the smiling man beside him. His mind trailed back to his conversation with his old blonde friend.

" _Ah, you should have said so earlier! If you're looking for someone who can handle this feisty boy of yours, Spain is the perfect fit." Arthur groaned. After all these years, Francis still hadn't grown up._

" _Ugh, can we just use real names? Whoever came up with the idea to use countries as cover names was a bloody idiot…"_

 _A gasp was heard over the phone. "Mon ami, I am hurt! I assure you it was one of my most brilliant ideas!"_

" _I figured it was you…" Arthur muttered under his breath before raising his voice, "Anyway, are you sure Antonio can handle such a job?"_

" _Of course! He may not act like it, but he is quite the fighter. And with someone who has a-ah, how would you say it?-difficult personality, he won't even notice a thing."_

 _The British man sighed, "I'm hoping so. He's a good kid, but finding him someone he can actually work with is a bloody hell. Blimey, i've even had to resort to asking you of all people for help."_

" _You strike my heart every time you belittle me, mon cher."_

 _"Oh, go jump of a cliff, will you?"_

Coming out of his thoughts, Arthur re-focused his mind on the duo in front of him. Was it possible that this guy was really capable of taming the wild Lovino? Thinking back on all the trouble Lovino had caused just in his time at the office made him hesitate. Well…it was too soon to tell.

"Splendid. You are, therefore, dismissed. Good day."

Lovino watched his boss spin around and head back to his office, a clear slam of the door indicating that he id not wish to be disturbed.

The silence that usually hung between him and his partners was something Lovino was used to. He didn't want to be there any more than they wanted to be there with him, and he wasn't afraid of showing that. What use did he have in being courteous? When Arthur had left them standing in front of their desks alone, suddenly forced to work with each other, he anticipated the awkward silence.

So when Antonio turned to him, big smile and all, and bombarded him with questions like he was actually _eager_ to spend time with him, Lovino was at a loss.

"So do you know any good places? I'm still unpacking so I haven't been able to explore the area. But I figure you'd know since you've been here longer."

Lovino looked over the Spaniard. Now that he was standing, Antonio's true height exposed itself, along with the many elegant features of his body, like the way his muscles flexed through his striped shirt as he moved, his long neck that was the same creamy tan color as the rest of his skin, the dimples on the sides of his cheeks, probably from smiling too much, and, most of all, those bright emerald eyes that seemed to peer into your very soul.

Lovino had always been good at noticing things about people. When he wasn't yelling about something, he was usually quiet, and quiet meant he could use that time to figure a person out and recognize their patterns and weaknesses. He was never surprised by how much someone revealed about themselves based on observing them for a little while. People tried to hide their quirks or pet peeves, but, to Lovino, it was like reading an open book.

Antonio, however, was one person he couldn't figure out at one glance. Lovino knew that he was the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but there was something hidden behind those green eyes that he couldn't decipher. As for his actions, just when Lovino thought he was going to do one thing, he did another. Lovino tried to ignore the stupid expression on the Spaniard's face.

...well, at least he was still an idiot.

"We can go to Alessio's Café. It's close and fairly decent." Luckily Lovino's brain could function on its own when Lovino was doing him observations. He couldn't count the amount of times it had saved his ass in the office or a dangerous situation.

Antonio nodded in agreement with his suggestion and grabbed his messenger bag off the chair.

"All right. Let's get going!" He linked arms with the Italian, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Now? Bastard, let go of me!" He tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but the Spaniard wouldn't budge and only gave him a confused look.

"What, why?" The question earned him an eye roll and a large shove. Now free, Lovino rubbed his arm gently. The bastard my have looked harmless, but he sure had a strong grip.

"I still need to grab my bag. Hold your fucking horses."

A quick visit to his cubicle and a look at his semi-full wallet confirmed that the Italian was ready. Lovino casually walked up to Antonio, who had trouble staying still. Lovino cocked his head. Thing to note: possible ADHD.

"Now we can go."

Lovino let the eager man drag him out of the office pretty easily, but not before getting a few whacks in. Impatient bastard.

~x~

"Wow! This place is great! Where do you think they get their vegetables? They're delicioso! Should I ask, or is that rude? Lovino?"

Lovino wanted to smack his head on the table. Here they were, at a respectable café he showed his face to at least two times a week (well, not anymore), and the man across from him was acting like a fucking child in a candy store. He was supposed to be out with a co-worker, not taking care of some man-child! Antonio gushed over every little thing—the outside of the place, the layout, the food (he ordered Melanzane, while Lovino ordered Penne Bolognese), the ingredients, and every little thing that reminded him of his home country. Which was apparently everything.

With a sigh, Lovino lowered his voice to a growl, attempting to avoid the attention of curious on-lookers, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Like way too fucking much?"

Antonio halted his musings, surprised by the random question. Well, at least it got him to focus on something. Instead of looking ashamed like Lovino had anticipated with direct confrontation, the man only chuckled, casually laying his arm over the back of his wooden chair.

"Ah, was I? Sometimes I get too caught up in the moment and just start speaking whatever comes to mind." Antonio ran a hand through his chocolate locks before looking up at a perplexed Lovino. The Italian blinked-was that nervousness he saw in his partner's eyes? Was Antonio acting _shy_?

Taking a large bite of pasta, Lovino looked out the window away from the brunette. "Ah, well, k-keep it to a minimum. I don't need you screwing up a case with that big mouth of yours."

The Spaniard smiled, raising his fork to place a few bites of his dish in his mouth. "Sure thing! So tell me about you, Lovi! Your interests, your family, your sibl-"

"No." he growled out instantly, clutching his own fork tighter than he should have.

The air suddenly turned cold around the two men. Lovino sent a menacing glare that practically said 'don't say another fucking word' at the man across from him, who seemed curious about the Italian's abrupt answer.

"But I want to know about you, since we're going to be partners. Shouldn't I know some background about who i'm going to be working with on a daily basis?"

Antonio was right. He was completely right. Working together didn't function if you didn't know anything about the other person. Their hopes, fears, strengths, and weaknesses were all essential to understanding how to work best with your partner. But learning those things about someone implied trust. Trust that person wouldn't betray you, and trust that they wouldn't use that information against you.

Lovino had learned not to trust people. He couldn't imagine letting anyone in or knowing about him, and had been contently living his life free of trust for years. Until now.

Putting down his fork, Lovino placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward to give the Spaniard a dark, intimidating look.

"Ok, bastard. Let's set a few ground rules if we're going to be working together," Lovino waited for the brunette's full attention before continuing, "We are not to tell each other anything about our private lives unless it is necessary. I don't really need to know about you and you don't really need to know about me. I'm good at my job and if you get in my way, i'll punch you in the balls. That's all you should know. Is that clear?"-Antonio nodded hastily-"Good. Another thing-you should always listen to my directions. I've been here for four years, and i've seen a lot of shit go down. I don't need your air-headed ass fucking up the mission if you can't stay focused. And lastly," Lovino locked eyes with the Spaniard, sending him his most threatening glare yet. "No fucking nicknames. I am not Lovi, or Lov, or whatever the hell you could come up with. I am just Lovino. Got it?"

There, that should keep the idiot in check. Lovino felt both exhausted and relieved after that whole speech. He always did. Trying to get people to do what you want them to do was both annoying and stressful, and often they really couldn't be controlled. That's why he stuck to cats, dammit!

He looked over his new partner for his reaction. From his previous behavior, Lovino would have expected the man to be upset or even cry. Hell, someone who gawked at pigeons and tried grab one ("But Lovi-back in Spain, the birds let us hold them.") just had to be a bawler! He had seemed like a sensitive man-one who couldn't take criticism or confrontation. He had probably grown up on his happy little field, tending to his home-grown crops and eating with his loving family. He probably never had a bad day in his life. Indeed, it wasn't hard for Lovino to peg him as such.

But yet again, the Italian was thrown off when the man's expression turned from shock to confusion to a slight smirk.

"I don't really understand your feelings, amigo, but i'll comply with your demands. For now." Antonio shot the shocked Italian a bright smile, "You know, you're more interesting than I thought you'd be. I like it."

Now, Lovino wasn't one to succumb to embarrassment often. He avoided those situations like the plague, and the people that caused them as well. But when someone says those types of things out of the blue, he knew he couldn't avoid or hide the red that was spreading all over his face and down his neck.

"Ah! You look like a tom-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP."

~x~

 _Somewhere in Chicago..._

The light was sucked away from the room as the sun disappeared over the mountains. Even with no light, the occupant of the room made no indication of rising out of his chair. The man looked out of the panorama-like view at the city below him, which bustled with thousands of cars, buildings, and people carrying on with their daily lives.

A few shuffling noises and curses from outside the door to the office indicated that someone else was trying to enter the room, but, still, the person made no move to answer it.

"Stupid lock—fuck—aha!"

The door swung open, revealing a man who kicked the door in frustration. Entering the room, the dark-haired man moved to flip on the lights—

"Leave it."

His fingers lingered on the light switch while his eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness to see the man at the desk. He found it eerie that the man had not turned around to see him reach for it in the first place. The man swallowed.

"Ah…boss. Good evening." He said, cautious to take any steps further. The man seemed to sense his hesitance.

"Come here." He waited for the hesitant man to walk over to his desk before continuing, "I have been told that you failed your mission."

A "tck" escaped from the man's lips as he ran a hand through his slicked back hair. "Yeah, but I couldn't handle him! He's a nightmare. I see why you want him dead."

The man sitting in the chair snickered, sending a shiver down the other man's spine. He didn't like the sound of that.

"He was…too much to handle? It was your _job_ to handle him." Spinning the chair around, the man held a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And now, I'm going to handle you."

"Wait—what—" Two hands came out of the darkness, wrapping tightly around the dark-haired man's arms. The man struggled against the large, bulky men who held him captive as the man in the chair stood up. A shiny silver pistol in his hand sparkled in the moonlight, taunting the terrified hostage.

"No, no, no, no, no— _please_."

The gunman's face was devoid of emotion as he raised the pistol towards the pleading man.

His voice dripped with venom as he spoke, "Good-bye, 'Detective Roberts'…"

The man's pleas and screams were silenced as a shot rang out in the dark. The two men dragged the now limp man out a door on the left, leaving the last occupant alone with his smoking gun. Placing the gun back into its place in a locked drawer, the man pressed a black button on the side of his desk. A moment later, a woman holding a clipboard walked into the room.

"You requested me."

Unmoving, the man stared down at the city once again. It always held such little, little people. Yet, he was a god compared to them.

"Yes, I want Lovino Vargas gone."

The woman scribbled down a few things before looking back up. "Done. Anything else?"

"That will be all."

The door closing behind her told the man that he was by himself once again.

Yes, it was time. He would bring down the Vargas empire—and it began with taking out the troublesome little Italian detective.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. :) Stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 3**_

* * *

As the crate began to fall, Lovino lunged forward, out from underneath the aim of the heavy mass. He rolled a few feet away, lying on his stomach and turning away to shield his face from the millions of small and large pieces that ricocheted when the wooden box hit the ground.

He let out a breath of relief, only to grimace once he saw an army of feet surround him. The feet belonged to rough-looking men with all types of weapons—including knifes, guns, chains, and god knows what else. They stared at him with hungry looks, as if he was a tiny fly caught in a spider's web.

As if he was already a goner.

Propping himself up on his elbows, the Italian surveyed the area, his eyes scanning over for any movement that could belong to his partner. _Where did that idiot run off to?!_ But no matter how hard his eyes strained to see the tan man, Antonio was lost to the shadows.

Lovino figured he was out-numbered by the amount of men circling him, so the next best option was to call for back-up. His hands shot to his waist, searching for the pager he kept attached to his jeans—only to find nothing. _Fuck._

As the men moved in closer, Lovino scrambled to think of his next move.

How the hell did he end up in this situation?

~x~

 _5 hours earlier…_

"A drug investigation?"

Arthur nodded, leaning across his desk to hand the two detectives beige case folders. Lovino flipped the file open, his mind trying to register as much information as he could. West Chicago… Abandoned warehouse #7… Shady-ass activity… Links to—

"Sadık Adnan. Chicago gang leader. Suspected to be involved in the illegal trafficking of crack and methamphetamine. Lovino, you should be familiar with him already."

Lovino cursed under his breath, staring at the Turkish man's mugshot. Yes, he knew him pretty well. He had been independently following Sadik's movements for months, trying to find solid evidence of his connections to the drug trade, but came up with nothing. Even when they had arrested him for possession, the Turk was the master of interrogations behind that smug smile of his. By the time questioning was over, the detectives couldn't get anything out of him and his previous violation was chalked up as a misunderstanding.

"Sneaky bastard. He's a fucking genius at covering up his tracks. If he's there, we better damn well nail him this time."

Lovino glanced over at Antonio, who was taking longer to read over the whole file. His eyebrows knit together in a focused expression, while his teeth gnawed at his bottom lip. Although it never became an actual case, he and his old partner had been the ones to question Sadik. Between arguments and disagreements, the ex-duo didn't even have the chance to come up with an appropriate strategy to get the guy before they had to let him go.

So, now this was his and Antonio's first case. It was a higher profile one than what Arthur normally gave him and his new partner, whom he usually only had a few days to get to know before they were thrown into the ring of crime.

Both Lovino and their boss waited for Antonio finish looking over the folder.

"How has this guy never been convicted?" he asked while gently closing the file.

Arthur sighed, asking himself the same question. "We've only been able to nab him a couple of times for possession and theft yet, every time, someone else comes forward or his violations come up in our computers as miss-entries. Apparently the officers that arrested him mistook the packages for drugs when they were actually sugar or flour… it was quite a large mishap on our part."

"It wasn't a fucking mistake! The dipshit was just several steps ahead of us," The adrenaline rushed through the Italian's veins, "I'll get him, I swear it…"

Antonio observed his partner, very aware of his extreme emotions. One wrong move and Lovino would be snapping at him like last time. So, instead, he looked to Arthur, "So what's the plan, Chief?"

"Your first mission is to head out as team and inspect this point of interest," Arthur gestured to an 'x' just on the outskirts of the city on a map he had pulled out. "Get in, get the evidence, and get out. If the enemy does engage you, secure the location and call for back-up. Try not to kill everyone; we will make proper arrests from there." Sitting down in his seat, Arthur smirked, "Bloody hell, I'd love to nab this guy too."

The Briton was surprised to see two determined, fiery pairs of eyes staring back at him.

"Yes, sir!"

~x~

The duo had agreed to take Lovino's car—a sleek, black Maserati that the Italian seemed to baby as if it was one of his own. They piled into the fancy machine, Lovino revving up the engine and checking his mirrors. Antonio had to admit—it was a nice car, far too out of whatever he could afford. But there was one thing he felt paranoid about…

"Lovi… don't you think taking a flashy car like this to enemy territory will draw attention? We're trying to sneak in, right?"

Backing up and heading down the street, Lovino shot him a sharp look.

"What did I tell you? Don't call me that. And have you ever actually been to any of these gang hideouts? These guys are making millions every day, and you think they're going to buy cheap-ass cars? This beauty barely fits the bill." The Italian made a quick turn left, nearly sending the Spaniard out of his seat. Did all Italians really drive like this? Even with his edgy driving, the Italian man seemed to know what he was doing. Though he tightened his seat belt just in case.

"If you say so! Ah, how exciting is this! Do you think they'll be there? Do you think we'll get caught? Ooh, should we come up with little signals, or—"

" _Shh_ , driving here," As if to prove it, the man made a sharp right and cut off a honking driver, "Why are you so excited? This is a mission. A job. We could get killed! And no fucking weird-ass signals. You have no experience, so I want you to stay back and watch me handle this. Got it, bastardo?"

Antonio's face fell, similar to how a child's face looked when their parent told them they weren't going to the candy store.

"Aw, come on, Lovi! We're supposed to be a team! Compadres! Besides, this is our first mission as partners! The action, the power, the rush—they're all things you live for, si?"

Lovino nearly slammed on his breaks before barely making a turn down another street. When he had stabilized the car, his eyes found their way over to Antonio's passionate ones.

"…I suppose. Fine, you can cover me. But you follow my moves and keep a look out for anyone coming our way."

A brilliant smile took over Antonio's lips as he raised his hand in a mock salute, "Yes, sir!"

Lovino smirked slightly, but said nothing, continuing on his way towards their destination. Fifteen minutes later, the duo drove into the area where the warehouses were located. They parked a few streets away, where the neighborhood began to turn from up-kept to run-down. Store signs were faded from facing the sun, while the streets were littered with trash. The only people that were around were sketchy-looking characters, who paid no attention to the fast car driving down their way. It looked like Lovino had been right about the car observation.

Lovino opened his car door, slamming it shut as he and Antonio headed to the back of the car. Making sure no one was around, Lovino opened his trunk, only to see that it held nothing except for a few bags and some workout clothes. Antonio was going to ask him what they were supposed to be looking at, but closed his mouth once he saw the Italian reach for a small scan-pad on the left side of the compartment. His thumb barely ghosted over the sleek surface of the glass before the floor of the trunk popped up. Scanning their surroundings again, the Italian pulled it open and revealed a fancy collection of guns, tracking devices, and escape gadgets. A small, black gun was thrust into Antonio's open hands. The Spaniard stared at the sleek device and looked up at Lovino, who was grabbing his own gun.

"Ah, Lovi! These are fantastico! Why didn't I get one? Did the Chief give you these? Are you a special agent or something?" Lovino loaded a few bullets into his gun before sliding it into the side of his pants.

"Like I told you before, none of your fucking business. Now, you've used a gun before, right?" Following the man's example, Antonio chuckled.

"I wouldn't have been offered this job if I couldn't shoot a gun, Lovi."

Lovino's cheeks reddened at the obvious remark. He decided to ignore him, and instead shoved the rest of gadgets into his arms.

"Here's a special pager—one press of this button calls for back-up. Only use this if the situation gets out of hand. I'm also giving you smoke bombs and this camera pen. We need to get the drugs on tape, so if you get the chance, just point top towards the target and press the side button. If I get out-numbered, call for back-up or distract them. Capiche?"

Antonio nodded slowly, sliding the instruments into their respective places. "Si. I think I got everything."

"Good," Lovino shut the truck, locked the doors, and began heading towards the warehouses, "Let's do this."

~x~

The duo approached Warehouse #7, entering through a basement window in the back of the building. There was no one guarding the warehouse, giving the impression that it really was abandoned. But by the amount of small cameras all over the place, he knew that front was false.

Prying the bottom window open and sliding through it easily, the men scanned the floor for movement or sound. It was empty, the only light flooding into the room from the opening they had come through. It was hard for them to make out the things in the room, but at least there was no indication that anyone had noticed them come in. Lovino pulled his gun from his belt, glancing back at Antonio to make sure he did the same.

The only sounds they heard as they passed from room to room were the creaks from the old building and the shuffling of their own feet. Dusty pieces of furniture that hadn't been touched in years were left in the corners of rooms with debris and clutter decorating the floors. Glass hung haphazardly from broken windows, while doors were barely hanging on their hinges.

A far-away laugh rung out in the silence, which attracted the duo's attention. Green met gold in the darkness, not even the lack of light dulling the brilliance of both of their eyes. Breaking eye-contact, they moved forward quietly, making their way towards the voices which were slowly growing louder.

They arrived in a circular room with two stories connected by a metal staircase, of which they were on the second. Looking down, Lovino and Antonio saw a group of four men playing cards around a table and smoking cigarettes. Lovino chalked the men up as simple, low-level thugs that were probably assigned to move the drugs and keep watch. Lovino looked over the area for any hidden watchmen or obstacles, but found none.

If Lovino had to judge it, he supposed they weren't too close to where the drugs were being kept, but not too far either. That was a good sign. If he played this right, these men could lead them right to their target.

Lovino poked Antonio, gesturing for them to go back to the other room. When they entered, the Italian spoke in a whisper, "I'm going to infiltrate them. Cover me in case anything goes wrong."

Antonio stopped his partner, who was already putting his gun away and heading towards the door. "Lovi, are you crazy? That's like letting the enemy know you're here! We're supposed to get some pictures and get out, right? Why are you engaging them?"

The Italian growled at the nickname and his partner's skepticism, shrugging off the man's hold, "It's the only way, idiot. This place is like a fucking maze in here. We're never going to find the drugs at this rate. If they lead us to them, then that's less work for us."

The Spaniard blinked, "You're serious."

An almost playful smirk took over Lovino's lips as he looked into the man's emerald eyes.

"Action, power, rush—all things I live for, right? Now, watch and learn."

He didn't wait to see how the Spaniard would react or what he would say, only focusing on disheveling his look and getting into character as he headed to the top of the stairs. He unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his shirt and ruffled up his hair in a similar way to how the thugs had theirs. Walking down the stairs, Lovino opened his mouth.

"Hey, dipshits," His feet carelessly clung against the metal stairs as he made his way down to the surprised thugs, "What the hell? We're not paying you to play games on duty."

A man with a black pony tail and gold tooth raised an eyebrow. "Well, what else do we have to do? We're stuck down here twelve hours a day."

"We expect you to be doing your damn job. Get back to work."

The man with long, ragged blonde hair next to the Mr. Gold Tooth looked at him skeptically. "And who are you to be ordering us around?"

Lovino shot them a chilling glare. "I'm Sadik's new right hand man, and I expect each of you to show me some fucking respect before I point a bullet in all of your foreheads, capiche?"

Swallowing harshly, the group nodded.

"Now, you there—who looks like that damn Avengers character," he pointed at the man who had spoken against him, "Come with me."

The Thor-Clone shared a cautious look with his buddies before getting up and following Lovino out of the room. Lovino only hoped that Antonio could follow them without being caught. He held back a smirk as he entered an archway. _How was that for infiltration, bastard?_

They continued down a hallway and took a left before the man behind him started to mumble.

"Um, fuck. Look—I shouldn't have questioned you. I'm new here, so I don't know all the rules. Please don't kill—" Lovino spun around, catching the man by his collar and lifting him up. The man squeaked and struggled against his hold, but Lovino held firm.

"Shut up," Lovino hissed, "Now Sadik told me to report to where the drugs are being held, but since i'm not too familiar with the system, I need you to show me where they are, got it?"

The man nodded hastily, clawing at Lovino's hands as his face began to take on a shade of purple.

"Good." His hand unclenched from the man's collar, sending him gasping for air. He staggered around a bit, before finally taking a few steps forward down the opposite hall. Lovino followed closely, keeping an eye on the scared man. And these men were supposed to be thugs? It was almost comical.

The Thor-Clone led him down a few corridors before they walked into a large room. The only thing in it was a tarp-covered mound, surrounded by four guards with guns. And the bird had led him right to nest. Jackpot.

They approached the guards who had been eyeing them curiously since they entered to premise but made no move to stop them. One of them looked Lovino over and turned to the Thor-Clone.

"Who is this guy, Abasi?"

"The new right hand man."

The man blinked. "You fucking serious? Heh, I knew the other guy wasn't going to last. Fargo owes me fifty bucks."

"Yeah, don't get me started. I see why Sadik chose him," Leaning closer, Asahi whispered to his friend, "He's fucking crazy."

Lovino found the irony in the situation too sweet as he moved close to the chatting duo. "I can hear you, dipshits. Now, Sadik sent me to make sure that all the drugs are there. You there," Pointing at a guard who had been silently standing at his post, "Roll back the tarp."

When the man made no move to do so, and only looked more confused by the minute, the man talking to Asahi spoke up. "But they all are there. What the hell do you think we've been guarding all this time?"

"Right now i'm seeing a fucking tarp in my way and no drugs."

Nervously, the silent guard found his words, "B-but we were only hired to watch the product. We can't actually _touch_ them."

"Well i'm saying you can. Do you really wish to defy Sadik's orders?"

All the guards swallowed a large lump in their throats, as if Sadik's wrath was not one to be reckoned with. Slowly, the nervous man moved towards the mound. He placed a shaking hand on the green tarp, pulling back to reveal hundreds of separately packaged parcels containing white powder. Well fuck, if this didn't make you rich, he didn't know what would.

Pulling out a notepad and pen, Lovino began writing an estimate of numbers as the other side of his pen recorded photographic evidence of the actual target. He put his items away and stared down the cautious guards. It made him wonder what Sadik would do to them if they ever spoke out of line.

"Cover it up." The men complied quickly this time, accustoming themselves easily to Lovino's demands. "Now I need to report to Sadik about this. I'm not thrilled with your reactions to following orders, but since i'm so goddamn nice, I won't tell Sadik about this."

All the guards and Asahi nodded in relief. The Italian was just about to turn and get the hell out of there when one of the guard's ringtone broke the tense silence. Quickly answering it, the man said a few words in Turkish, including the words for right-hand man which Lovino had learned when he had interrogated Sadik. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Shutting the phone, the guard looked at Lovino. "He says he's here and he wants his right hand man to come see him. Asahi, show him, will you? Rules are rules—you're the newest."

Asahi grimaced, reluctantly heading towards the exit and cursing the seniority system before Lovino got the idea to follow. Had they found out that he was a fake? It didn't seem like it, since the man's face showed no expressions of surprise or shock.

The Italian weighed his options: engage the enemy directly or avoid conflict and leave. His boss had told them to avoid bloodshed if possible, but Sadik was in this very building right now. They could catch him once and for all. But once he walked into that room, his cover would be blown. Was getting Sadik really worth an all-out war?

Lovino shook his head and thought back to Antonio, who probably didn't know what the hell was going on. Yes, the bastard probably was so in awe at his act that he forgot what he was doing. Since Lovino was clearly the more responsible one, he had to somehow find him if they both wanted to get out of there safely. There was no way anyone was dying on his watch, especially an idiot like him.

Lovino felt for the pen in his pocket, his fingers closing around the thin, cold object. They had the evidence, and right now their mission was to get it in the hands of their boss. As he and the Thor-Clone turned right and walked through an open room, Lovino made his decision.

A hit to the neck knocked Asahi completely out, not even giving him a chance to process what had happened. He fell to the floor, his eyes squeezed shut as his mind went unconscious. Lovino stood over the man and thought of a place to hide him. Looking around, he decided that the large crates to the left of him seemed like a good spot. The Italian dragged his body easily around to the other side of the crate before walking towards one of the exits. He had to get in contact with Antonio…

Pulling out the pager from his jeans, Lovino pressed the button that would contact its twin pager. A few rings rang out from the pager when he heard another sound join with them. He furrowed his brows, wondering what the squeaking sound was until he realized it was coming from _above_ him.

" _Lovi? Are you there? Lovi?"_

Slowly looking up, Lovino didn't even realize that his pager had connected when he heard a SNAP! and a massive crate that had been hanging from a crane suddenly grew larger in view.

He barely made it out from under when it hit the floor. Before he even realized it, he was surrounded by twenty men or so, all armed and dangerous. The search for his pager was halted when he looked over towards the dissembled crate, which had crushed his pager into pieces. There went his only covert form of communication. Turning his attention back to the men and sizing them up, Lovino figured he had no choice but to get out of this himself. Not like it would be hard, anyway.

The one thug with a shaved head and a large cigar hanging out of his mouth stepped forward. He was probably the highest authority of them there. "You heard the boss. The first one to capture him gets part of the reward."

This elicited a wave of unrest that resonated in the eager thugs. They unfurled and clenched tighter on their weapons, eyeing the Italian like prey. Reaching into the back of his pants, Lovino prepared himself for the impending attack.

In that moment, it seemed that time had slowed down as the men began to move towards him. He didn't move, only his eyes darting quickly over his opponents as he surveyed their weak points. His fingers stalled on the metal for a few seconds before he grasped his two guns in his hands and pointed them at his enemies.

Blood sputtered from the wounds of the men as his bullets pierced their bodies and sent them tumbling to the ground. Lovino spun around, tripping an oncoming thug and shooting another in the chest. Dodging a couple shots taken at him, he kicked and bashed a few men who had made it past the onslaught of his bloody fire, alternating between his two forms of attack to create a perfect defense. He felt his heart beating quickly, the adrenaline taking over his body in an addictive bliss.

Pointing in the direction of several approaching thugs, Lovino cursed when his gun stopped producing bullets. He threw the other gun away and replaced it with the pistol he had held in his right hand, shooting and sending a rain of bullets on his opponents. He smirked, unamused by the ease of the situation. Were they even actually thugs?

Lovino faced the last of his opponents, believing the end was in sight until he saw a movement in his peripheral vision. The man with the cigar was coming at him from behind faster than Lovino could register, which meant that the Italian didn't have enough time to move his gun in his direction to defend himself. Lovino cursed—he couldn't do anything.

Preparing for the pain that was sure to emit from his body, Lovino bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut in momentary fear. Yet instead of pain, Lovino felt himself being pulled forward, his chest hitting against something both hard and soft. The thing that he was pressed against shifted his body, twisting him around to face the other direction. No longer afraid and more confused, Lovino opened his eyelids to look into familiar green eyes. But instead of those happy, warm emeralds, they were replaced with harsh, angry orbs.

Lovino felt around and realized that Antonio had him pressed to his chest with one hand, and held the gun Lovino had given him in the other. His face held such focus and intensity, a stark contrast to the Spaniard's usual expressions. Was this even the same man?

With Lovino directed away, Antonio stood towards the man with the cigar, shooting him squarely in the heart and maneuvering skillfully to take out the rest of the oncoming men with his remaining bullets. The only thing Lovino could do was clutch on to his partner, hiding any embarrassment he may have had into his toned chest.

By the time the last man had fallen, silence had taken over the room. Lovino listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, elevated by his quickened breath that fell against the Italian's neck. Shivers ran through his body, but he did his best to ignore them. Pushing out of the brunette's arms, Lovino took a long look at him until Antonio finally met his eyes.

"What the hell was that?" His breathing returning to its normal pace, Antonio almost seemed back to his regular self.

"Que?" He lifted up his black shirt, wiping the sweat off his forehead and revealing the tan toned stomach that he had previously been pressed against. Lovino's mouth went dry as he guiltily took in the attractive, slick—Ok…where the hell were his thoughts going?

Lovino shook his head to clear his mind before saying, "You didn't tell me you could shoot like _that_."

"It wasn't anything special," Antonio chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. Antonio looked up at him before saying, "I was only trying to protect you."

Lovino swallowed, unable to oppress the clenching of his heart. Who…who even says that? In an attempt to cover up his embarrassment, Lovino coughed and looked away.

"I don't need protecting, bastard. I can handle myself."

"Well, apparently so."

Lovino and Antonio swiveled around to face the man whose voice had entered their conversation. But Lovino knew who it was without even having to look.

"Sadik."

Sadik was guarded by two very macho men with two large guns pointed directly at the duo. He himself had his hands dug into his pockets as he walked around his dead and unconscious underlings. His expression was guarded by a white mask, which was a signature part of his identity. The Turk smiled.

"Ah, good to see you again, Lovino. I take it you couldn't resist seeing me again after our first meeting?"

"In your dreams, fucker." Lovino spat out, ready to charge at him and smack that smirk off the man's mouth.

"You made a real mess of my men. I commend you." Sadik continued to walk towards them, only stopping to lean down over the dead body of the leader of the previous attack. He stared at him for a moment, before reaching down and rummaging through his coat pocket. Pulling a fat cigar out, Sadik lit it and pressed it to his lips. He took a large puff before looking over at the duo again. "But you're just about out of luck. In fact, you saved me the trouble of finding you. How lucky am I?"

Reaching down and picking up a blood covered gun from the floor, Sadik flashed them a smile, "Isn't that right, _Romano_?"

Lovino froze at that moment, unable to process what was happening. It was as if his brain wasn't working—his legs wouldn't move and his voice was stuck in his throat. A million questions rushed through his head, his concentration scattering in multiple directions. Their enemy had them cornered, and Lovino didn't have a plan. He cursed himself mentally. Why had Sadik said that? What were they to do? How would they get out of this?

He was pulled out of his thoughts, however, when he heard a laugh next to him. Looking up at his partner, Lovino was surprised to find a strangely, confident smirk on the man.

"Actually, I think your luck has run out, amigo."

A confused silence hung in the air on both sides. Before Lovino could question his partner, a loud BANG! sounded to the right of them. The wall exploded, sending metal flying everywhere. As the dust subsided, a sea of black flowed into the building towards both parties. It was only when Lovino heard shouting and yelling from Sadik and his thugs that he realized the black belonged to men with guns. _Their_ men.

"What? When…?" Lovino blinked, watching the men secure the location and arrest the remaining living men. He looked to Antonio, who just gave him a small smile.

"I called back-up when I lost connection with you. I didn't know how far the situation was going to get out of hand. Good choice, si?"

Lovino nodded absentmindedly as they began to walk towards the exit, also known as the giant whole in the wall. The duo looked around and quickly found Arthur, who was directing men left and right in the chaos.

"Chief." Looking up, their boss sighed in relief when he recognized that it was them.

"Ah, quite a good thing you were both all right. I didn't think the situation would be _this_ bad."

"We got pictures, but the drugs are here. Did you secure them yet?" Lovino questioned. That was the main reason they were there, anyway. Arthur nodded.

"We just located them. Apparently they were already trying to move the product, but we made it just in time. Thank god," He let out a sigh before smiling and looking up at the duo, "And we managed to snag Sadik as well. Good job, you two."

Their boss gave them one last look of approval before heading off and directing more men around the area to get the drugs safely out without any complications. Once he had moved out of view, Lovino caught sight of white and saw Sadik, who was struggling against the men that were forcing him into the police car.

"Fuck! You can't do this to me! I'll kill you!"

Lovino found himself moving towards the Turk before he could stop himself. Stepping in front of the man now in the car, the Italian crossed his arms and smirked.

"Looks like your time is up, Sadik. Have fun spending your miserable life in jail."

Sadik growled at him, obviously losing his edge.

"Heh, don't look so cocky. I'm not the only one after you, little _Romano Vargas_. Just you wait. They'll be coming after you and soon you'll wish it had been me that took care of you."

A maniacal laugh erupted from his lips as the window was shut and the car drove away. There it was again. Lovino swallowed roughly, his lungs constricting as he attempted to keep calm. Groaning, he ran a hand through his hair. What had the Turk been up to? What was this about people coming after him?

But most of all, how the hell did Sadik know his real name?

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! :) Stay tuned!**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 4**_

* * *

Lovino was not a morning person.

He had hated mornings ever since he was a child, and still hated them every time he was forced to wake up at 7:30 for work. And why should he enjoy it? Mornings were when his mind was barely able to function, and when his eyelids wanted to flutter close the moment he let himself rest. Those things plus the stiff crook in his neck gave him more than enough reason to continue to justify his contempt.

That particular Thursday morning, he had dragged himself into the office at 9:02 with a deep scowl and a snippier-than-usual attitude. Co-workers who were casually walking by with their mugs in hand spun off in different directions once they saw the disgruntled Italian coming down the hallway.

Well, he shouldn't have been surprised. When he looked at himself in the mirror that morning, he had groaned at his appearance too. The bags under his eyes and the paleness of his face made him look like the life had been drained from his body. He sighed, pushing a few disobedient strands of hair out of his eyes.

He hadn't gotten much sleep that night. Or any of the other nights, for that matter. It had been a nightmare trying to get back his case from those two Nordic bastards, who were less than willing to give up one of the Grade "A" cases. Dealing with his clueless partner only increased his stress levels, with whom he spent his time briefing him on his current ongoing cases and his research. He found watching over people to always be a hassle, even back when he and—

Lovino caught himself, physically shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts. He wasn't going to think about _that_ right now.

But most of all, he was bothered by Sadik's warning words. It was dangerous that a man with connections to all the wrong people knew something about his past. He had purposely buried any evidence linking him to _Romano Vargas_ years ago, but here he was, making his appearance once again. Lovino grimaced—it was too early in the morning to be tugging his hair out over this.

Making his way into the break room, Lovino headed for the fancy coffee machine, shelling out a few coins to make up a cappuccino. About a year ago, one or the coffee companies had donated a new special beverage maker to the office as a promotional strategy, making Lovino a very happy man. If there was one thing he loved almost as much as tomatoes, it was coffee.

He put the money in the slot and his red mug he had grabbed from the cabinet under the dispenser, lightly tapping his foot as the machine produced freshly brewed liquid into his inviting cup.

He was so mesmerized by the desire for his morning coffee that he didn't notice the sound of the footsteps that were slowly approaching. Lifting up the filled frothy mug to his lips, Lovino anticipated a burst of flavor—

"Lovi, there you are! I was looking all over for you!"

The steaming liquid burned his tongue and lips, the coffee pouring over his fingers and down the wrong pipe. He pounded on his chest, flinching when he felt the coffee burn his throat. It was never a pleasant feeling. Shooting a glare at a smiling Antonio, Lovino wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What the hell, bastard?! You can't just go surprising people like that out of the blue!" He paused for a moment. "And I told you not to call me that!"

The bastard just continued to smile, oblivious to the Italian's plight.

Although it was probably obvious, Antonio loved mornings. Lovino found this out on his second day, when he showed up to work with a blinding smile and a basket full of home-made churros for the whole office to eat. All the employees who contested Lovino took to Antonio like fans to a celebrity, already enamored with the amicable man. The way they fussed over him made Lovino want to gag.

As if he noticed something was wrong, Antonio cocked his head, peering at him with those intense green eyes. "Oh? Did you burn yourself?"

"What do you think? Idiot." He spit out spitefully, popping one of the fingers that got burnt past his lips. I didn't help much, since his whole mouth and finger throbbed against each other.

Before he could find another solution to alleviate the pain, his finger was pulled out of his mouth. Lovino looked up at Antonio, who was pushing him towards the sink. He was about to question him, but stopped once he saw the serious expression on his partner's face. Antonio turned on the faucet and thrust the Italian's red skin under the cool, soothing liquid. Thankfully, it did help lessen the throbbing, if only a little.

"I'm fine, really," Lovino averted his eyes before adding for good measure, "Bastard."

The Spaniard shook his head, taking this with the same severity as one would a life-threatening injury.

"It's good to soak burns in water for at least five minutes. As for later, you should probably take acetaminophen or ibuprofen to help lessen the pain."

Lovino blinked. Yes, he knew some of that already, but it surprised him that the man who didn't seem to be there mentally half the time knew this as well. This piqued the Italian's interest.

"How do you know that?" he inquired, leaning against the sink counter for support. Antonio looked at him out of the corner of his eye, as if he was waiting for something. When it didn't come and Lovino just shot him a questioning look, the Spaniard spread his lips in a modest smile.

"I experiment with food at home for fun, so I get burns all of the time."

Well, that made sense. Those churros he made must have taken countless times to perfect. Not that he tried any voluntarily, or anything! The bastard practically begged him to taste it!

They stood in silence, Lovino's hand under the running water and Antonio looking in the cabinets for medicine. Lovino watched him move, a sudden curiosity boiling up in his stomach. And before he could stop himself—

"Bastard, what kind of things do you cook?" Antonio stopped, hands stalled on two cabinet doors. The man looked at the other, his eyebrows furrowed until a happy smile took over his face.

"Everything! I'm best at Spanish food, but I can also do French, Chinese, Italian—" Lovino cut off his list with a scoff.

"Only an Italian can cook genuine Italian food, idiot." Finally finding the right medicine, Antonio pulled out the bottle and looked at his partner with amusing eyes.

"Oh? Are you good at cooking, Lovi?"

He took two pills out of the bottle and handed them to Lovino along with a glass of water. Lovino took the items, popping the pills into his mouth and swallowing them down.

When he was done, Lovino shot him a smirk. "Damn right I am! I fucking rule at Italian food."

Deeming it time, Antonio turned off the faucet and handed Lovino a paper towel. The Spaniard looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before crossing his arms and leaning against the counter-top.

"Ah, I see. You should come over and we could make some comida together, si?"

Lovino had barely noticed in his chat with Antonio that his painful throbbing had turned into a dull ache, enough for him to continue his everyday functions without issue. Wiping his hand off with the towel, he shot the Spaniard a glare. "Not going to happen, bastard. You're just trying to get me to make you my delicious food for free."

Antonio chuckled, "Lo siento, lo siento. I assure you that is not my intention, but if you feel that way," he looked at him with those big green eyes, leaning his face a little closer to the Italian. "How about a cooking challenge? The best cook has to buy the other dinner."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable by the close proximity, Lovino leaned back but held a stern face. "You're on, bastard. I'm going to win though, so you might want to give up now."

Antonio moved away, looking at the Italian with an expression he couldn't place. When he didn't stop, Lovino groaned.

"W-what? Is there something on my face?"

The man shook his head, whether to answer Lovino's question or wake up from his trance, Lovino was unsure.

"No. I just thought, uh, that you didn't want anything to do with me. Personally, I mean."

Lovino blinked, wondering just what Antonio was talking about when their conversation from the café hit him. He had snapped at him, telling the man that they were not to ask about or expect anything of each other. He had been dead set on keeping his distance from his annoying partner, but somehow here they were, mending wounds and making conversation in the break room. Yet, the most surprising thing was that the person to break that hadn't been Antonio, but Lovino himself. Fuck, what was he doing?

A blush spread over his face as turned away from the counter and his partner. "Ah, well, I suppose if we're going to be working together longer, I need to know a couple things."

Antonio took in the bright blush on Lovino's face and grinned. "Does that mean I can ask things about you now?"

"No." Lovino deadpanned, shooting a scowl at the pouting brunette. "Now, why are you here again?"

"Oh! That's right! Chief wants us to head over to the CFR and pick up some files today." Antonio followed his partner, who was heading out of the break room with his now cooled-down cappuccino in hand.

A sigh that probably wouldn't be his last for the day escaped from the Italian's mouth. If there was one thing he hated about his job, it would have been filing. Most of the time he was able to put it off on his assistant, but sometimes when a case was involved, he had no choice.

"Fuck, filing is so boring… Fine. Let me just finish this damn overpriced drink and we'll go, ok?"

Antonio nodded as they each headed to their respective cubicles. Lovino set down his drink, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes to rest for a moment. Was it really only 9:30? It sure felt like half his day had passed by. He hated days like these.

His peace of mind was interrupted once again when Antonio popped his head around the corner.

"I forgot to mention that I made churros! Here, I saved you one!"

Lovino stared down at the neatly wrapped sugary snack in his partner's hand. Finding no strength to protest and feeling maybe even a little touched because no one ever saved him anything before, he grabbed the churro and took a forceful bite out of it. As the cinnamon sugar and bread undeniably please his taste buds, the man grimaced.

Damn Spaniard and his good cooking.

"They... aren't completely horrible." He muttered, irritated by the large smile that spread over the Spaniard's face.

"Really? That's fantastico! I'm glad you like it!" Antonio beamed before disappearing back to his side of the wall. Lovino washed down the last of the treat with his cappuccino, deciding with his last swallow that his stomach was very satisfied with his breakfast. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.

"Oh! Hi Antonio! How are you doing today?"

Scratch that.

Lovino groaned at the giggles that were now coming from Antonio's side of the cubical. Why did women have to start flirting so early in the morning? He could barely remember what day it was let alone the ability to formulate thought. He tried to ignore his two female co-workers who were conversing with the Spaniard, but somehow he found his mind trailing off to listen to what they were saying.

"...So, we want to have a welcome party for you tomorrow night! Can you come?"

"A welcome party? That's so nice of you! Si, I am free!"

Squeals that Lovino found similar to the sound of pigs erupted from the girls' mouths. "Great! It's going to be at The Blue Bar. Let's head over after work then!"

"Sure. Hasta luego!"

The women let out another sickening giggle as Lovino listened to their sound of their footsteps begin to fade. As soon as the women were no longer in sight, Antonio's head was back around the wall.

"Lovi! There's going to be a party! I love fiestas! How did they know?"

His eager attitude earned him an eye roll from the Italian. How could they _not_ know? The Spaniard practically oozed fun and affability—the exact opposite of Lovino. It made him wonder how this idiot even managed to save his life the other day. He may have been skilled, yes, but his cognitive processing needed a little work.

"Congratulations, bastard. Now instead of flirting, can you get back to doing your fucking job?"

Lovino turned away, pretending to scribble a few words on a note pad and hoping the Spaniard would understand to leave him alone. He continued on for a few more seconds before realizing that those bright green eyes had not left his back. Getting slightly irritated, Lovino sent him a glare over his shoulder.

"What the fuck do you want?" The sweetest laugh came from the Spaniard's lips when he met the peeved Italian's eyes.

"I'm waiting for you, remember?"

Oh, yeah. Lovino cursed under his breath at his mistake as he stood up from his comfy black chair and shot his partner a scowl.

That smart-ass son-of-a-bitch.

Brushing past him and that stupid face of his, Lovino grudgingly headed out of the station and to the parking lot. Yet before he made it to his car, the wind carried a whisper to his ears that made him speed up and the heat rise in his cheeks.

" _And you'd know if I was flirting, cari_ _ñ_ _o."_

~x~

The Chicago File Room—or as Lovino liked to call it, the Hell Room—was a large warehouse in the central city that held files on every resident in the city and every criminal case in its city's history. It was monitored all day and night like a library, with large bookcases, librarians, and security. Needless to say, this resource center held millions and millions of files that Lovino hated to look through. Nowadays most of the files were put into the computer, but due to the vast amount they had, there was still a lot that needed to be entered in.

The duo parked on the side of the colonial building, Lovino admiring the pleasant look on the outside that deceived the onlooker about the inside. It certainly wasn't as beautiful and inviting as it put on. Digging his hands into the pockets of his coat and putting few coins into the meter, Lovino and Antonio headed towards the entrance of the Hell Room. A security guard greeted them with as much enthusiasm as Lovino felt towards potatoes, waiting for them to show their badges and nod them through.

When they walked past the security check and into the building, Lovino had anticipated the slight gasp that escaped from his partner's mouth. He followed Antonio's line of sight, taking in the mosaic window dome that was above them and that reflected the sun's light into various rays of color. Well, that part was certainly breath-taking, but past the large, wooden doors—

"Welcome to Hell," Lovino muttered, moving out of Antonio's way to give him a clear view of what was in front of them. There, ten stories up, stood a paper wall of beige that curved around them—more intimidating than Lovino's worst glare. He was somehow pleased when he heard Antonio's hesitant voice.

"We… we seriously have to look through all of those files?"

Lovino crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, "What? Did you expect us to take a picture and leave? Being a detective's not all action, you know."

He headed past his—for once—speechless partner and retrieved from his messenger bag the notepad he had been scribbling on before. Flipping a few pages back, Lovino came across four different names and numbers.

"It won't be that bad. Everything is organized by name and birth name. I already have the suspects' information written here. We just need to go find their files."

Antonio glanced as the paper before nodding and following the Italian towards the help desk. The only sound in the large file room was the sound of their shoes hitting the marble, sending resonating echoes throughout the space. Lovino handed the woman with glasses his list, which she quickly looked over and searched for in her computer.

"Files for person 3 and 5 are on the eighth floor, while the remaining persons in question are on floor 3 and 2. I've written them all down for you."

They thanked the receptionist before heading towards the doors of the old, metal elevator and waiting for it to arrive. A muffled ping alerted the duo of its arrival, which prompted them to enter.

Since Lovino had the list, Antonio waited for him to press one of the silver buttons that would put the elevator into motion. When no movement came, he arched an eyebrow.

"Are you gonna—" He froze when he saw Lovino, who was gritting his teeth and leaning against the wall of the elevator, looking like he was in pain. "Lovi, are you ok?"

Lovino sent a scowl towards the man, but even that seemed weaker than usual. He just waved him off. "I'm fine, bastard. Just press… press eight. We'll work from top to bottom."

"…If you say so." The Spaniard complied, and off they shot up, the metal contraption shaking slightly as they ascended towards the sky and arrived at their floor. He took another look at Lovino, who looked like he was ready to throw up. Maybe he had motion sickness?

As soon as the doors slid opened, the Italian was out of them, heading down a corridor bordered by two bookshelves of paper files. Rubbing his neck, Antonio shrugged off the man's odd behavior and entered into the towering walls of beige before he lost sight of him.

When they mentioned that this place had every file on every one, they weren't kidding. Antonio quickly scanned the passing names, catching a glimpse of a whole wall of 'Thompson' and 'Taylor' who had multiple people with the same first names.

"How do you even find the right person in this mess?" Antonio wondered aloud, half directed towards his partner and half rhetorical.

Lovino groaned, seeming like he was back to his old self. "It's a fucking catastrophe, that's what. The Chief's been trying to find a better solution for finding files for years, but it's not as simple as just changing a light-bulb."

Antonio nodded in understanding, even though Lovino couldn't see him. As they turned a corner, he followed Lovino, who was mumbling something about moving files before he let out an 'Aha!' and stopped abruptly in front of a wall that looked identical to the rest. The Spaniard almost bumped into him, but caught himself just in time, earning a questionable glare from Lovino.

"Help me find these people. Here," Lovino handed him the slip of paper, "I'll take 'Thomas, Jean' and you'll take 'Terrison, Robert.' Got it?"

"Ok! So I just grab his file, si? Does he have one or more?"

The man scoffed, directing his focus to scanning over the names of the files. His finger lingered across each file for less than a second, gently trailing down the tab names. "You think this place could afford to have more than one file on each person? There'd be no room for any of it. And yes, grab the file and give it to me."

Following Lovino's directions, Antonio headed over to the next row and found the 'Ter-'s. The way in which the files were crammed together into such little space made it hard for him to make out names or take out one file without taking the others with it. Looking over the third shelf shoved a little farther back, he finally came across the person's name. He retrieved the file, double checking the birthdate to confirm his find before heading back over to find Lovino, who was squatting in front of a neighboring shelf while searching though one of the lower shelves.

"Lovi, I found it!"

Lovino did not look up at the approaching Spaniard, only holding out an empty hand towards him. Antonio placed the file in his free hand which earned him a quiet 'thank you' as the Italian pulled a file out of the shelf. Perusing both of them, Lovino got up and looked at Antonio.

"Ok, let's go get the others. Next is," He glanced at his list, "Floor 3."

Walking through a long row of files and towards the elevator, Antonio spoke up.

"So, what are these for again?"

Lovino rolled his eyes as he pressed the down button. "You can't start an investigation if you don't have all the personal information on the suspects. These," He held up the beige folders, "have their prior records and connections that may give us leads."

"Oh! Does that mean they have one on me?"

Lovino shook his head as he placed the files behind the secure zipper of his messenger bag. "Not yet, bastard. You've barely been here two weeks."

The brunette chuckled, leaning against the wall as they waited for the elevator to arrive. "Well that makes sense. You know, back in Spain, the people there weren't nearly as intense as Americans."

"Hey!" the Italian shot him a pointed look, "Don't group me in with those burger-obsessed bastards! I was born in Rome and am much more Italian than I'll ever be American!"

"You're intense yourself, Lovi, but in a different way," He laughed at Lovino's scowl, "What was it like living there?"

"Well I lived there only until I was five, so I don't remember much..." He mumbled before looking thoughtfully at the curious Spaniard, "But I know it was beautiful."

Antonio was about to comment, to say anything in order to keep those enchanting, mysterious eyes locked on him when the small ding from the elevator tore the Italian's attention away from him. He saw that passion disappear, replaced with an unreadable, dark fog that clouded over his pupils as Lovino watched the doors open in front of him. The man stared into the opening, and only began moving when Antonio poked his shoulder.

"Lovi?"

Lovino jumped at the touch, but didn't have to question the Spaniard to know what he was referring to. Antonio stopped the door from sliding closed due to inactivity, holding it back as an invitation for Lovino to enter the elevator. He reluctantly obeyed, heading over to the very left corner of the small compartment and grasping tightly at the rail.

"Only two more to go." He spoke, more to himself than to the Spaniard.

The doors of the elevator closed shut and began its descent downwards. They stood in silence, Antonio whistling along to the elevator music and Lovino keeping to himself. The Italian's eyes were glued to the old floor indicator, its pointer and numbers rusted and worn from years of exposure. They were almost to their floor, with only three more floors to go. 6…5…4…

But just before they arrived at their destination, a forceful shake sent both men crashing down onto the tile floor. The elevator compartment shifted ominously back and forth, coming to a complete stop a moment later. The lights flickered for a moment before both men finally were able to get to their feet. After Antonio helped Lovino up, he went to inspect the buttons.

"Well this is strange. Did someone press the emergency stop button? Should we contact someone? Hmm… what do you think we should do, Lovi?" Antonio turned to look at his partner, expecting to hear a round of curses or a snippy remark. What he didn't expect to find was a pale-faced Lovino, clutching desperately at the wall. Although he had showed slight signs of anxiety beforehand, it perplexed Antonio to see it showing full-force on Lovino's tough exterior.

"Lovi? What's wrong?"

Antonio tried to move toward the scared Italian, but another tremor sent them flying in opposite directions. Groans erupted from both men as they struggled to stand. His wary green eyes met Lovino's troubled ones.

"Ok, I don't think this is safe. We need to get out of here."

Antonio started scanning the elevator, looking for any possible way out of the metal death trap. The ceiling seemed to have a small hatch on the very right which Antonio could access if he reached up far enough. There were also the metal doors, but he'd have to see how far they were from closest floor opening for that exit to be useful. Other than that, they really didn't have much to work with.

"Antonio." The Spaniard froze when he heard his name come from Lovino's lips. It was only then that he realized that Lovino had never called him by his actual name since they began working together. The word sounded foreign coming from Lovino, but not in a bad way. No, the way it rolled off the Italian's tongue definitely wasn't bad. Seeing that he had Antonio's attention, Lovino continued.

"I think you should know something before we try anything."

They held each other's stares as the elevator's lights began to flicker again.

"What is it?" He beckoned softly, wanting to hear what the Italian had to say without making him angry or agitated.

Lovino took a deep, anxious breath before speaking, "When I was seven, I developed a really shitty case of claustrophobia. I dislike small places and… and tunnels and alleyways, but, most of all, I hate elevators. I just feel like everything is closing up on me... and now we're _actually_ trapped in here and—"

He felt himself be pulled into the same strong arms that had held him a week ago, wrapping securely around Lovino's body. The sudden embrace surprised Lovino, who instinctively struggled against his partner's hold.

"B-bastard! What the fuck are you doing? Don't make me feel _more_ claustrophobic." He mumbled weakly, but, to be honest, it didn't really make him feel more suffocated. It was more like… a weird sensation. He felt short of breath and nervous, but not the way he usually did when he felt closed-in. No matter how much he wracked his brain for an answer, he couldn't find the right words to describe it.

Antonio drew back and apologized, but didn't let go of Lovino's shoulders. The man looked him straight in the eyes, a fierce resolve burning within them.

"Lovi, I'm going to get us out of here. Leave it to me."

Releasing his shoulders, Antonio returned to the task at hand as he inspected the two exit routes. Lovino slid to the floor, his familiar nerves washing over him as the elevator lurched again.

"Shit. I hate being useless." He whined while Antonio pried at the place where the metal doors met. At first, the doors didn't budge. They were clamped shut like an oyster holding a pearl, unwilling to reveal its treasure, or in this case, the way out.

Getting tired of watching the fruitless results, Lovino pushed himself up and moved towards a struggling Antonio. He stood next to him, in front of the other half of the door.

"You pull that way and I'll pull the other," He directed. The duo positioned itself, prying their fingers into the small crevice and making sure they had a decent grip on each door. They counted down from three before grunting and pulling with all their might. A moment later, the metal blocks slid open, the force of gravity sending them crashing into their respective walls.

They hissed and rubbed the spots where they would surely have bruises forming later, looking to see whether the pearl was, in fact, hidden within their oyster.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Lovino moaned out, his breathing starting to increase as he stared into the grey concrete wall. They were stopped right in between floors, which meant there wasn't even a door to try to access. They were screwed.

A soothing hand rubbed against his back, "It's ok. We still have the top hatch."

Lovino looked up to where Antonio was pointing, running a nervous hand through his hair. A startling shudder ran through the elevator again, this time placing it on an unsteady tilt. The duo shared a wary look before speedily moving to stand underneath the hatch.

Lovino tightened his bag around his shoulders and looked at Antonio. "Lift me up. Quickly."

The Spaniard nodded, grabbing ahold of Lovino's thighs and thrusting him up for his arms to reach the top. His hands brushed the ceiling block and—with a few more attempts—pushed it up. The piece of ceiling came out easier than he would have expected, which he rested on top of the lift. Lovino felt the gush of cold air hit him as he looked up at the ominous darkness above the elevator. It creeped him out, but the free expanse of space was enough to calm his nerves.

Clutching onto the sides of the square hole and pushing himself up and out of it with all his strength, Lovino finally made it on top of the lift. He rolled back onto his stomach in order to look back down at Antonio, but this only caused the shaky elevator to shift more. Antonio looked up at him, a big smile on his face.

"Bueno! I told you I'd get you out!"

"That's great, bastard, and I appreciate it. Now how about we get you out before this fucker decides to give out, ok?"

The Spaniard nodded hastily reaching up his tan hands to meet Lovino's outstretched ones. They felt the elevator tremble again, but this particular shift sent a chill down Lovino's spine. Something bad was going to happen, he just knew it.

"Bastard, move quicker now." He spoke, attempting to tug Antonio's heavy body up faster.

"Ah, but Lovi, I—"

Another lurch sent Lovino in a panic. "We don't have time! Hold on as tightly as you can to me."

"But—"

"NOW!"

The Spaniard nodded and tightened his grip on Lovino's arms. With all the force he could muster, Lovino groaned as he heaved Antonio out and onto the top of the lift with him. Without even taking a moment to rest, Lovino reached for the sturdy wire holding the elevator and grasped onto it with the other holding onto Antonio arm.

A second later, the lift's security clamps made a terrifying snap, leaving the elevator without anything to hold it up. The metal contraption began to fall out from under their feet, disappearing into the black abyss below them. A loud crash and small explosion came from underneath them, sending debris up, but not enough to reach the duo.

Antonio swung himself to grasp onto the wire as well, releasing the extra weight that had been holding Lovino down. They stayed like that for a moment as they caught their breath and slowly took in everything that had just happened.

Blindness and silence surrounded them for a few minutes, until they heard a sound above them. Above them, light poured into the darkness as two metal doors from one of the upper floors opened. One of the librarians looked down through the opening, jumping out of her skin when she noticed the two exhausted men hanging from the wire.

"Oh my god! Are you… are you boys all right?"

Lovino felt his hands start to hurt as he gripped tighter on the metal wire. "Yeah… uh… mind helping us out of here?"

~x~

Thirty minutes later and several apologies from the librarians and owners later, Lovino and Antonio sat alone on the steps in front of the CFR. Someone from their station would come investigate the elevator incident, but—for now—they were safe.

One thing Lovino knew for sure, however, was that this was not because of faulty equipment. The security clamps that held up the elevator he noticed had been tampered with—purposely weakened and beat up in order to prevent them from holding the lift up. The elevator had been fine when they had used it the first time, but within the time they were on floor 8, someone must have come in there and messed them up.

" _Just you wait. They'll be coming after you and soon you'll wish it had been me that took care of you."_

Sadik's words echoed in his head. That left no doubt in Lovino's mind: he must have been the target.

A small chuckle brought Lovino out of his thoughts. He looked over at his smiling partner, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

Anotnio shrugged. "I was just thinking about how you said filing was boring. Well, I'll tell you now, that was _a lot_ less boring than I thought it would be."

Lovino punched Antonio's shoulder, but he couldn't help let a small smile on his face.

"Shut up, you bastard."

* * *

 **Thank you for the reviews and for reading :) Stay tuned!**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 5**_

* * *

"So what do you think?"

Lovino sat in his boss' office, waiting patiently for an answer as the blonde-haired Brit looked over a sheet of paper. His eyes trailed over the evidence listed on the white sheet before he finally looked up at the serious Italian.

With a sigh, Arthur pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed the marks they had left behind on the bridge of his nose.

"To be honest, I don't know. This definitely seems suspicious, but there's not a lot to go on from just an implied threat and equipment failure. I can check it out for you, but it will have to wait until later." A frown graced Lovino's face. He knew that would be the case.

He and Antonio were allowed to go home early after the elevator disaster. They were both worn out and sore from climbing out of the hatch and up the wire, but they still had to return to the station the next day and report to their boss what had happened. After they had finished their story and were dismissed, Lovino had requested to speak to Arthur further about his suspicions. Truthfully, he wasn't hoping Arthur would confirm or deny his story—he only wished to talk it out with the man whom he found himself relying on whenever he was in trouble. In a way, Arthur was like a second father-figure to him.

Lovino's hands clenched into fists as he gave a reluctant nod.

"I understand."

He got up to stand, mumbling a thank you and heading towards the exit. Yet as soon he reached for the handle, the door swung open—right into his body.

"Iggy! Your dashing hero is here to save you from your misery! Are you ready to go?"

Lovino scowled at the voice and removed the door from his face, massaging his tender nose. Dammit, that was going to leave a mark! "What...what the flying fuck, hamburger bastard?"

The man—Alfred Jones—jumped, obviously not expecting someone to come out from behind the door. Alfred worked as a criminal lawyer at the Chicago Courthouse who, despite his narcissistic tendencies, was one hell of a prosecutor. When he recognized Lovino, Alfred grinned obliviously.

"Oh! Italian dude! What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Swinging the door shut, Lovino curve his lips up into a snarl, "I was discussing business— _important_ business when you and your obnoxious ass came in and smacked me in the face! What the hell are _you_ doing here?!"

A sigh long since reserved for Alfred came from across the room. "My apologies, Lovino. My imbecile of a boyfriend and I have plans to go out for dinner tonight."

"Yeah! And it's not McDonald's this time—" Alfred blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, "Hey! Not cool! I'm neither obnoxious nor an imbecile."

"Yes you are." Both his boyfriend and Lovino said without a hint of hesitation, earning a low whine from the blonde man.

"Whatever, i'm still a hero..." Alfred mumbled, dropping dejectedly into the seat nearest to him. He reached for the Rubik's cube that was sitting on the small table next to him and began playing with the device, flipping the colors around in an attempt to make them match up.

Arthur turned his attention away from his childish partner and smiled at Lovino.

"LIke I said, i'll check it out for you. Have a good day, Lovino."

His golden eyes trailed over a laughing Alfred, who had somehow solved the rubik's cube in mere seconds. How someone could hold both stupidity and advanced intelligence was beyond him.

"...Likewise."

Lovino turned and headed out the door, this time checking to see if anyone was on the other side before opening it.

When he found no one, he exited out of the room and headed back to his desk. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was almost time to head out. Sighing, he thought he could really use a nice, hot bath.

Lovino flopped down into his chair and spun around to face his computer for a few absentminded seconds. He had his email up, just for good measure, to appear that he was still "working." Well, no one _really_ worked the last 10 minutes of work, anyway. Glancing back down at the bottom right corner, he sighed in relief as the number switched to 5 o'clock.

Just as he gathered his things, a weight on his desk alerted him that someone was there. A sigh escaped his mouth as he continued to pack up. He knew who it was.

"Get off my desk, bastard."

Antonio just stared at him with that stupidly happy look of his—one that he was so used to he no longer fantasized about slapping it off his face. Well…maybe there was a small part of him that _still_ wanted to. His laugh was still sweet and energetic, even after everything that they had gone through the previous day. Hell, Lovino was still feeling the effects of last week, let alone the day before.

"Ah. Sorry, sorry." he slid off the desk and stood up, yet made no move to go away.

Lovino arched an eyebrow, "What?"

The man in front of him cocked his head, his curly brown locks falling over his cheeks and eyes. It was—dare he say— _cute_.

"What do you mean? I'm waiting for you."

The Italian blinked, more surprised than irritated if anything. "Why?"

"You're coming with me, right?" When Lovino still wore a blank look, he clarified, "To the party?"

Oh, that was right. The girls had planned a party to welcome Antonio to the office. To be honest, Lovino couldn't remember the last time he had been to party. He avoided them like the plague. He had no desire and found it totally unnecessary to socialize with his co-workers or others in general. But then again, he had always been this way.

"Bastard I—" Lovino was going to reject him. He had no problem with refusing other invitations or speaking his mind when he wanted to. But as soon as Lovino took in the Spaniard's dimming eyes and falling smile, he found he couldn't get the words out of his mouth.

"Um... I don't know. I mean, I still need to feel my cat..." That wasn't exactly a lie. His cat could eat five meals a day if Lovino actually put that much food out. Now that he thought about it, he should probably put his cat on a diet.

"Come on! You could feed your gato afterwards, si?" Antonio looked at him with his re-energized eyes, "Besides, after yesterday, don't you think we could really use a drink?"

Lovino scowled at his insistent partner. Did…did Antonio really want him to go that badly? He was used to his co-workers effortless attempts to get him to come out, and even more used to them not trying at all. Yet the way that Antonio stared at him with those pleading eyes and pouting lips was—for some reason—oh, so hard to resist.

"Just for a little bit and then I'm leaving, all right?" He muttered, averting his eyes to stare at the grey wall of his cubical. He really didn't want to see that annoyingly happy smile that was sure to take over Antonio's face. The bastard better not get the wrong idea! He was going for the alcohol— _only_ for the alcohol.

"Sure, Lovi. Gracias." Lovino scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Why are you thanking me? You're so damn weird."

Antonio's tan hand ruffled the back of his own head as he let out a light chuckle.

"That's because I really want you to come."

No words came out of the Italian's mouth as he took in Antonio's words. How could he just say that? What was he supposed to say? Thankfully, a group of giggles from around the corner saved him from replying to the Spaniard.

"Oh—Antonio!" The person who spoke was a pretty girl named Michelle who, despite her obsession with male actors, models, and the occasional good-looking employee, was not as annoying as his other female co-workers. She and a few other women walked up to his partner, sharing star-struck looks with each other every time they caught a glimpse of that oblivious smile.

"I told the rest of the office and they're in! We're meeting at the bar in thirty minutes."

"Sounds great! Lovi and I will be over there pronto!"

"Lovi….?" Her eyes trailed over Lovino, who crossed his arms and scoffed.

"The bastard won't stop calling me that."

The group of girls blinked out of surprise, because one: Lovino was actually going to go out with co-workers willfully (the only times he attended events were for mandatory banquets, when he was forced to go), and two: he was on such a familiar and friendly basis with Antonio in such a short time frame.

"Ah…ok! See you both soon!" Michelle waved goodbye to the duo, while her receding friends gave less friendly looks to Lovino over their shoulders. Lovino shot them far worse glares right back. He wasn't afraid of those groupies.

After they left, Antonio turned to him and smiled—a concord air between them.

"I'll meet you there then?"

"Yeah," He agreed, grabbing his messenger bag off his chair and heading for his car. A groaned escaped his mouth as he kneaded his overused brain. Yes, he could really use that drink now.

~x~

Not unexpectedly, Lovino arrived at the bar first. He got out of his car and waited for the Spaniard to get there while avoiding awkward glances from his co-workers. God, now he remembered why he never went to things.

Five minutes later, slow-as-a-turtle Antonio pulled up in his four-door maroon car, which took him an extra minute to park. A twitch formed on Lovino's face as he watched the Spaniard back up and drive in in order to park his car perfectly within the white lines. Lovino glanced at his own parking job, which would certainly make his Italian ancestors proud and his driving instructor cringe in horror. Not that he cared.

Antonio finally got out of the car, smiling widely at a glaring Lovino.

"Ah, you beat me!" He laughed as he locked his car and made his way towards the front entrance.

Lovino followed, muttering under his breath, "Wasn't too hard to do, idiot…"

Loud music and chattering attacked them as soon as they opened the doors to the bar. As a detective, Lovino immediately took note of everything in sight—over confident men were hitting on disinterested women at the bar, laughing women with their friends were taking multiple shots to get drunk quickly, a couple men were sipping beers and watching a game on the TV, and the list went on as they entered the crowded room. Aware of the time, Lovino was surprised that people started drinking this early on a week day. Then again, it was a Friday.

He felt a nudge on his shoulder, and turned to look at Antonio, who was pointing to the left most side of the bar where a few of their co-workers were. The group caught sight of them and waved as they navigated their way through the throng of people. A few of them shot questioning looks at Lovino, but he ignored them. He was only here for Anto—the alcohol. God dammit, the alcohol!

Ignoring the group and turning to a bartender who was wiping down a glass, Lovino asked for a glass of their highest quality wine. As he waited, he watched his partner chat amicably with the other co-workers as if they were old friends. A slight ache came from his chest, for what reason he didn't know. He rubbed at his chest a little, but he only was able to turn the pain into a light throb.

The bartender brought his glass a moment later, filled with a dark cherry-red liquid that made his mouth water. He placed the rim of the glass gently on his lips and lifted the bottom to pour the wine onto his tongue. Sugar and a slight bitterness invaded his senses, making for a pleasant combination for his taste buds. Compared to other wines, it wasn't bad. He always held pride in the fact that no other wine could beat wine made by Italians.

Lovino downed a few more glasses, feeling the alcohol begin to take effect on him. He kept checking on Antonio, who now was surrounded by and chatting with half-drunk women from their office. Even Michelle was there, hanging onto Antonio's arm in a friendly manner. Suddenly, Antonio caught Lovino's gaze on him, which prompted him to flash him one of his bright smiles. Lovino blushed, knowing he was found out and taking another sip for good measure before he felt the embarrassment fade away. He was just settling into a tranquil state of mind when he heard a few whispers to his right.

" _Ohhh, he's his new partner?"_

" _Uh-huh."_

" _Wow! He's so sociable! And handsome!"_

" _Tell me about it. How did he end up with Lovino?"_

" _Oh, I know. Poor guy. He must hate working with him."_

Lovino had heard it a million times before—people talked, and he usually didn't give a shit about what they said. Maybe it was the alcohol or he was losing his edge, but—this time—he actually _cared_ about what they were saying. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he really didn't want Antonio to hate him. He might even actually _like_ working with him. Fuck, what kind of hole did he dig himself?

He needed to get out of there.

Taking one last swig of wine, he wiped his mouth, paid his tab, and got up from his stool. He headed for the exit of the bar, forcing away a couple drunks away who tried to invade his space. Seriously, did these people have no limits?

Lovino pushed through the heavy doors and felt the cold air of the night assault him. A shiver ran down his back, but he ignored it. It really wasn't _that_ cold.

Since Lovino had lived in Chicago for a couple of years, he knew most of the streets and stores like the back of hand. He easily guided himself down to his destination: a small stone bridge that looked out over Chicago.

His hands clenched the stone-wall as he stared out at the millions of little lights below him. The bridge was his favorite place in the city that he discovered on a stroll through the streets a few years ago. He loved being able to see everything and yet feel invisible doing so. It really gave a strong sense of omnipotence.

"Ah, it's so beautiful."

Lovino squeaked, jumping out of his skin from the voice behind him. He turned to the smiling man who was now standing to his right, looking down in amazement at the expanse below them.

"Bastard! What did I tell you about coming out of fucking nowhere?"

Antonio only hummed, completely unfazed by Lovino's words. "Hmm? Were you scared?"

"No!" He claimed a little too quickly, earning a knowing smirk from the brunette, "Uh...just surprised."

"Sure, Lovi."

They fell into a comfortable silence as they listened to cars drive by and sounds from below make their way up to their spot. It was peaceful, and normally Lovino wouldn't be the one to disturb the calm when he could get it. But somehow the alcohol made him want to break it—to open his mouth and get everything off his chest.

"Why did you leave your party? You were having such a good time."

Antonio just shook his head, leaning on the wall with his elbows.

"Well, you weren't there, so I followed you." The wind picked up, making Lovino's scoff get cut off by a shiver.

"What kind of reasoning is that? You didn't have to chase after me, idiot." He murmured, a little surprised by Antonio's straight-forward answer. The man next to him just chuckled offering him a comforting smile.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

Lovino's eyes widened at the worry evident in his voice—something he was so often foreign to he had forgotten what it felt like to have someone direct their concern towards him.

"I'm fine, bastard." He murmured, staring at his tightening hand on the stone, "You can go now."

Yet Antonio didn't leave. He stayed in the same place, looking up at the night sky.

"Mmm, I think I'll stay out here for a little while longer," he told Lovino. Trying to look like he didn't care, Lovino forced his voice to remain unaffected.

"Do whatever you want, bastard."

The duo stayed like that for a bit, watching the lights flicker below them and trees breeze in the wind. The weather was chillier than usual that night which didn't agree well with their thin shirts. That was Chicago for you—the city of unpredictable weather. A random laugh from Antonio broke him out of his thoughts.

"What's so funny. Bastard?" Antonio's eyes were trained on the city below them.

"You know, this view kind of reminds me of Spain."

Lovino arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you grow up on a farm? This is the city, idiot."

In reply, the Spaniard shrugged. "Well, they are different visually. But they have the same feeling. Openness, fresh air, a sense of infinity." Antonio chuckled, leaning back to get a better view of the expanse, "I feel like I could do anything!"

Lovino stood quietly, watching the reminiscing Spaniard out of the corner of his eyes. The wind blew through Antonio's brown locks, brushing a few strands into his line of sight. He pushed them away.

"I left Spain as soon as I turned eighteen. I haven't been back there since."

A strange glimpse of sadness flashed in his emerald eyes, much to Lovino's disbelief. The Italian felt like he was going to continue, so he stayed quiet.

"My family... well... We were really poor. Even though we owned a tomato farm and produced a lot of good harvests, it was never enough to get us by. The economy in Spain had been getting worse around that time, and with several mouths to feed, we had to do what was best for our family's survival."

Lovino noticed that Antonio's hand clenched harshly at the stone wall, the weak parts of the cement breaking under his hold. Damn, was Antonio really this strong?

"What did you do?" He urged quietly, the desire for him to know what had made his partner's cheerful face scrunch up in pain.

"We sold the farm. But Lovi, I _loved_ that farm. It was my pride and joy. I had been raised with it. For my parents to just sell it was... Unforgivable. I understand now that it had to be done, but at the time, I was furious."

Antonio raised his head to look up at the stars, seemingly lost in the memories of his past.

"A week later, I left. A couple friends and I had this crazy idea to move to America and start our own private investigative team. We were really obsessed with the idea of justice and crime fighting that it kind of just took a mind of its own. Thinking back on it, it was really fate that we met, since they were studying abroad in Spain for only a couple months.

"We did that for a couple of years and it was fun, but… Lovi, I hurt a lot of people. Friends, families… dios, I did a lot of things I regret. First I had left my own family without saying goodbye, and now I was breaking apart others. I hated the person I was becoming, you know?"

Antonio looked him straight in the face, as if he was searching for some type of mutual understanding in Lovino's eyes. Lovino knew all too well what Antonio had went through. At Lovino's small nod, Antonio offered him a modest smile.

"So I quit. My friends didn't want me to, but they knew where I was coming from. After a few prior commitments, we disbanded about a month later and went our separate ways. I don't get to see them as much now, but we do visit each other from time to time."

"And after that?"

"Well I looked for another job! Luckily a friend told me about a position open at her daycare. I was working there until this opportunity came up." The slight perk in Antonio's voice made Lovino sigh in relief.

"Wait…so you're telling me you went from crime-fighting badass to sissy brat-watcher? That's the weirdest career change I've ever heard."

His partner let out a sweet laugh. "Yeah, it was great! I loved looking after all the little ninos. But just between you and me—I… I kind of missed my old life."

"Well I bet you could. Why the hell don't you and your friends re-establish your old team?"

"No, no. That's all in the past. We're on different paths now, and I'm quite happy where I am now," Antonio's eyes lingered on Lovino for a little longer than necessary before looking back out into the night, "But that wasn't what I was referring to. I meant when I lived in Spain. I miss the fields and my family, the weather and the people. But…I haven't been back since I left."

Lovino met his gaze when Antonio turned to him.

"Lovi… you don't think they'd hate me, right? For leaving them?"

An oblivious, carefree Antonio was someone Lovino had grown accustomed to. Someone he expected to see every time he went to work, or was in a pissy mood.

But a regretful, almost vulnerable Antonio was new to him. It threw him for a loop. No one had ever sought Lovino for comfort before. It was strange and new, but Lovino didn't feel annoyed. If anything, he desperately wanted to make that pained expression on the Spaniard's face disappear. And if Antonio was willing to trust Lovino with his fears and past, then… maybe he could trust him a little as well.

"Sometimes…it's something a kid has to do. You have to find yourself somehow. F-for me, leaving home was the best decision of my life."

And that was the truth. He wouldn't go back on his decision any day. Antonio's eyes widened at Lovino's statement. Was…was Lovino finally opening up to him? His heartbeat quickened as he stared at his quiet partner.

"Why did you leave?"

Lovino flinched, conflicting emotions swimming in his eyes. "I…I had to. I couldn't stand to stay in that house anymore. Not after all that happened."

"What happened?" When Lovino didn't answer, Antonio added, "Lovino?"

He swallowed down a large lump in his throat, the person's image that he had forced himself not to think about for so long popping in his head. The auburn locks and happy expression of the boy brought forth both a happy and sorrowful mix of feelings for Lovino. He could almost imagine what it was like to actually have him there. Closing his eyes, Lovino let the image come back to him.

"My… my younger brother went missing when I was fourteen. Nothing was ever the same after that. I've been trying to find out what happened to him ever since." Lovino clenched his fists harshly, digging his fingernails into his skin.

It had been over eight years since he had last seen Feliciano's smiling face. Since he had laughed with his brother. Since everything had been ok.

"Oh, Lovi… have you had any luck?" The Italian shook his head, rubbing his shoulder when a draft of wind blew through them.

He knew he couldn't tell Antonio everything. Extended knowledge about his life or those relating to him was dangerous. His brother's disappearance was no exception. But Antonio wasn't the type to betray him. There was a sense of ease and honesty that came with being around the Spaniard—a refreshing change that Lovino may have just needed in his life.

"No, but… I've been searching for so many damn years! I figured I'd find something leading me to him by now. It's just, _grrr_!" He ruffled his hair as a wave of exhaustion hit him, "So frustrating."

A comforting hand landed on Lovino, rubbing soothing along his shoulder.

"You're going to find out what happened to your brother, I just know it."

A warm feeling rose in Lovino's chest, one that made it hard for him to speak and his lips curve up into a small smile.

"I know I will…but thanks, bastard."

The hand slide off his shoulder and down his back as Antonio's face took on a look of shock. The Spaniard blinked a few times before leaning closer to his face. Lovino moved back on his elbows, his expression replaced with his usual scowl.

"What now?" Antonio looked at him with sparkling eyes, leaning a little closer.

"It's just…you smiled."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "S-so? It's just a smile. Nothing to get worked up over."

The moonlight was stronger than most nights—it's rays clearly highlighting half of their bodies. Shaking his head, Antonio grinned. He raised his soft hand to meet Lovino's face, gently running his thumb across his cheek. Their eyes met, and Lovino felt his breath hitch in his throat.

"But it's my first time seeing you smile. It really suits you. You should do it more often."

Antonio's head was moving closer, and Lovino found it strange that his was doing the same. What was happening?

"You idiot…" he said in a whisper, his breath tickling the Spaniard's face. His eyes began to lid and suddenly their faces were level, their lips mere inches from each other. Just a little further and—

A loud ringing noise startled them and sent them flying apart. Lovino recognized the sound as his phone, and pulled it out of his pocket. He stared at the phone for a moment before looking up at Antonio, who was staring at him. As soon as their eyes locked, the two men blushed in realization. They broke eye contact a moment later, Lovino answering his phone and Antonio staring at the ground.

"Yeah?"

A familiar British voice came onto the line.

" _Ah, Lovino. It's Arthur. I need you and Antonio to come down the station as soon as possible. I'm calling an emergency investigation."_

"Emergency?" he breathed out. What the hell was with his voice? He felt like he had run a marathon.

" _Yes. I found a lead on your request from earlier. Be careful on your way over."_

Lovino's ears perked up—his interest increasing in this 'emergency investigation.'

"Got it. We'll be over as soon as possible." Lovino pressed the end button on the call before looking up at his confused partner.

"Chief's called us in for an emergency investigation. We have to go now."

"Ah—si, ok."

Neither made the move to leave. They each looked over the other, searching for some kind of reaction to make sense of anything that had happened that night. The first to give in was Lovino, who was growing tired of standing there. With a sigh, Lovino turned to face the direction of the bar.

"Let's go then."

He waited for Antonio to come up to him, but when he still didn't move, he started walking by himself. He got a few feet before he felt a firm tug on his arm. Lovino looked back to meet Antonio's indistinguishable eyes.

"Ah, Lovi—"

"What?" He raised an eyebrow, willing any embarrassment he could potentially feel to the bottom of his mind. Antonio looked at him for a moment before slowly releasing his grip.

"Uh…well… never mind," the Spaniard looked away, up towards their parked cars, "We should hurry up."

Lovino nodded, but his mind was still focused on Antonio's unreadable look and his toned back that clung to his tight white shirt as he walked ahead of him. A few slaps to his cheeks put him back in the right mindset. There was no need to think about that right now. They had work to do, after all.

He took one last look at the view, which suddenly seemed darker than it had been, before following Antonio and returning to the world where he at least had a solid understanding of his own life.

Or so he thought.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading and for the reviews! Stay tuned :)**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 6**_

* * *

The un-lit station had always creeped Lovino out at night.

The place looked deserted, and Lovino knew that if this were a horror movie, it'd definitely be where the zombies were hiding. Then again, maybe he was watching too much Walking Dead lately.

Lovino and Antonio had gotten from the bar to the station in less than fifteen minutes. They exited their respective cars, walking next to each other towards the entry in silence.

Lovino dug his hands into his pockets and retrieved his sensor key. With one swipe, the duo entered the dark hallway. They stopped right before the darkness engulfed their path, after the door had automatically re-locked itself. Maintaining the utmost nonchalance, Lovino moved behind Antonio and pushed his hands into his back.

"Well, go ahead." Antonio shot a confused look over his shoulder at Lovino. One glance a Lovino's avoiding gaze made something click in the brunette's head. A smirk took over his face as he moved to the right of him.

"You scare too easily, Lovi." The Italian scoffed, taking a not-so-furtive step back and attempting to cover up the tremor in his tone.

"I told you. I'm not scared! I just prefer that if something were to attack us at this moment, you would be sacrificed and I could escape unscathed. That's all."

"Aw, Lovi, you're so cruel to me." Antonio cried and clutched at his chest in fake anguish. An unamused Lovino elbowed him in the rib, which earned a small groan from the taller of the two.

"Just get moving, bastard!" he hissed out. The duo began their journey down the hall, feeling the walls in hopes of finding either a light switch and trying not to bump into anything. The surface felt smooth and also bumpy, with a million little mountains of paint decorating the plaster. Lovino knocked his foot on the side of a desk, earning a few colorful curses to fill the silence.

Just as they finally reached the end of the hallway, the room was illuminated with light. The two men shielded their eyes from the bright entity, forcing themselves to blink a few times before they could see clearly and the ache subsided. They looked across the room to see Arthur standing in front of his office, his left hand lingering on the light switch next to his door and his other on his hip in a testy stance.

"If you two are done arsing around, we have some serious issues to discuss." He moved in front of his door and gestured to the inside of his office, "Shall we?"

The two partners shared a look before straightening themselves up and following their superior's instructions. They sat in the two open seats across from their busy boss, each watching anxiously as Arthur pulled out five pictures from a folder and placed them on the surface of his desk.

"Tell me, gentlemen: what do all of these photographs have in common?"

Lovino and Antonio leaned forward to get a better look at what appeared to be pictures of five different men, each from random moments in their daily lives. They looked like normal photos someone would post on social media, but Arthur was right—there was something eerie about them.

Antonio was the first to react, grabbing at one of the photos and practically pressing it against his eyeballs. "They all look like—"

"—me."

Lovino finished, picking up the picture closest to him and perusing the man's smiling face. There was no doubt about it. These were a collection of Lovino-look-alikes. The picture of the man that Lovino was holding had some of the same features as himself: the auburn-straight hair, goldish-toned eyes, and a slim-framed body. Yes, this man could easily be mistaken for Lovino if you didn't look closely enough.

"Correct." Arthur confirmed and slowly sat down in his chair.

"Why do you have all these pictures, Chief?" The Spaniard questioned, a bewildered and anxious edge to his tone. The two men replaced the photos back on the desk, putting them back into their rightful position.

"These are pictures that i've gathered from other police stations." Arthur looked up at both men, a seriousness in his stern expression "I'm afraid to tell you that all of the men you see before you have been found dead over the past couple days."

The silence was deafening for a moment—both men trying to comprehend the situation and too shocked to speak. The Spaniard finally stood up, a concerned look in his green eyes.

"Dead? Why would they be dead?"

Instead of answering Antonio himself, Arthur looked to his quiet partner. "Apparently you weren't wrong in your speculations, Lovino. I think there's strong enough evidence to suggest that someone is after you."

Lovino had honestly expected something like this. But, suddenly, it was real—too real, as if someone had punched him in the gut and he couldn't remember how to breathe. Not only had they attempted to take Lovino out, but they also succeeded in eliminating five unsuspecting men with the unfortunate fate of looking like the real target. Needless to say, they weren't exactly being covert about the fact that they were out for Lovino's blood.

"Why…why would they be after you, Lovi?" Lovino turned to look at his partner who had confusion and a slight hint of angry written on his expressive face.

There were a lot of reasons for why someone might come after the Italian, and none of them were good. Some had to do with his work, while others had to do with his past.

He tightly clenched his fists. He really hoped it wasn't the latter.

"I don't know." He answered truthfully, uncertainty filling him as he tried to wrack him brain for any possible suspects. Arthur and Antonio watched the befuddled Italian and shared a mutual sympathy for him.

"Well, its not the end of the world. They haven't killed you yet." Arthur smiled, resting his hand on the back of his hand, "I'll have someone investigate, but for now, just keep an eye out. Both of you, ok?"

The duo nodded, though not as enthusiastically as their previous times in the past. But it was all that Arthur needed to know that they'd be ok.

"All right. Good. Now head home and get some sleep. You two best be bloody happy it's the weekend." Both men moved to stand, stretching before navigating thought the furniture to the exit.

Yet, a terse "Lovino" stopped the Italian from moving forward. He turned back, staring at his boss for an explanation.

"I need to talk to you for one moment alone, please."

Lovino nodded, and turned back to Antonio. "You can go ahead of me, bastard."

"But, Lovi—" Antonio began, but paused when he caught sight of Lovino's tired expression. Quietly, the man opened the door and left. Lovino watched him go, a sudden desire to stop him boiling up in his heart. He found that… strange.

After he suppressed the urge, he returned his attention to his boss, who wore a strange smile on his face.

"I see you and Antonio are getting along well."

The scene from just less than an hour ago came back into his mind, cursing his cheeks with a poorly concealed blush.

"As well as it could be working with an idiot." Lovino spit out and tried to force the disgust in his voice. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be.

Arthur just smirked. Lovino could be so obvious sometimes.

"Good, because I think you've convinced me." Lovino, who had his arms folded, blinked.

"What?"

Arthur reached into his drawer, pulling out one of the million beige folders that seemed to exist in this office. Holding it out over his desk, Lovino took it.

"It's yours. I hope it helps."

Lovino flipped it open and saw in large, bold font the words "FELICIANO VARGAS" on the front page. He almost dropped the folder as soon as his brain registered it, but held enough sense to keep the folder safely in his arms.

"Thanks, Chief."

Arthur waved him off, but Lovino could still see the faint smile on his face.

"Don't mention it. Now, as a favor to me and a word of advice, I advise you to not try so hard to push Antonio away." When Lovino opened his mouth to protest, Arthur cut him off in further explanation, "Look, I know things are hard for you and that you're very capable to handling your problems. But you don't need to do it alone, Lovino. Trust me, it'll only hurt you."

There was a nostalgic look in Arthur's eyes—one that Lovino could identify a mile away.

Lovino scoffed, pressing the file against his white dress shirt. "The bastard and I aren't like you and your idiot boyfriend." That bastard boss of his dared to throw a smirk Lovino's way.

"Not yet, anyway. I'm just asking you to look after one another. He really cares a lot for you, and I know you care about him more than you let on."

Lovino twitched, using absolutely all of his willpower not to let his face heat up at that moment. He was _not_ going to let that British bastard win.

"Whatever, fine. I don't care." Lovino faced away from him, beige folder securely in his right hand. He paused for a moment, before looking back over his shoulder at his boss. "Has anyone taken the leftovers yet?"

The Brit blinked before shaking his head. "Not that I know of."

"Well I want a bagel and my cat's probably fucking hungry, so I'm taking them." Lovino lied, shrugging his shoulders casually. With that, the Italian exited the room.

Arthur chuckled to himself, writing a few more lines down on a piece of paper before shoving it in his drawer and shrugging his coat on.

He sighed. He hated to think of the crazy things the git was going to make him do for cutting their long-awaited date short. He prayed to the heavens it didn't involve a dress or ears.

~x~

After the bagels had been properly dealt with, Lovino plopped down onto his comfy couch, letting his body sink into the leather. He had spent a ridiculous amount of time picking out the perfect dark brown leather couch when he had first moved out, one he proudly made use of every chance he got. Flipping himself over, Lovino snuggled his face into the back cushion as he felt tiredness and exhaustion wash over him.

Just as he felt sleep take over his consciousness, a loud ringing noise startled him awake. He shot up, leaning off the couch to grab the messenger bag and rummaging through it. He finally found the source of the noise, pressing the 'accept' button on his phone before even checking who it was.

"Urgh, what?!" The familiar voice chuckled over the other line.

 _"Ah, hi Lovi!"_

Lovino noticed that Antonio's voice seemed deeper on the phone. It was definitely attrac— _nope_ , so not going there.

Groaning, Lovino threw his face into the pillow of the couch and mumbled, "Whadda fu wand."

 _"Lovi, I don't understand-"_

Pulling his face away, Lovino growled out, "What do you want, bastard?"

 _"Ah, well, I just wanted to make sure you got home all right."_

Lovino sat up more properly, pulling one of the tomato decorated pillows to his chest. "I'm not seven, bastard. I can get myself home in one piece."

Another one of Antonio's wonderful laughs seemed to echo in Lovino's head. _"I know you can. But I still worry."_

Lovino clutched the phone a little tighter. Arthur's words began to float around in his head. Suddenly his voice seemed so small, like he didn't have the power to get it over a whisper. "Worry about yourself. You have a higher chance of falling in a hole or tripping over your own feet and dying than I do getting attacked."

" _Well…that's true. Ah, hey—! No, don't do that! Malo!"_ Lovino heard a lot of scuffling on the other line before Antonio's out of breath voice returned to his ear. A shiver ran down his spine as he peeled the phone away from his face as fast as he could. What the hell?

" _Ah, sorry, Lovi. I have to go. Little Espana just knocked over one of my plants… again."_

"Little Espana?" Lovino inquired, praying that Antonio didn't have some child he didn't know about. Not that he cared. Much.

" _Mi gato! He kind of has a mind of his own."_

"Tell me about it." Lovino muttered, looking over at his own cat which was watching him curiously from the top of his kitchen counter. He shot the cat a glare, only to receive an 'innocent' meow in return. Lovino returned his focus to the phone, "Alright, I'll let you go properly discipline your cat. Buena notte, bastard."

Even over the phone, miles away, Lovino could sense that stupid smile growing on the Spaniard's face. _"Buenas noches, Lovi."_

Setting down the phone in his hands, Lovino stared at the blank screen for a few minutes. Wasn't…wasn't there something weird about their relationship? It almost felt like they were… _together_.

Lovino gagged and shook away that thought. That was absurd. All that lovey-dovey, romantic shit never appealed to Lovino. Why would it ever appeal to him now?

In an attempt to get his mind off things (also known as, a certain Spaniard), Lovino dialed a number he hadn't called in a very long time. He listened to at least four rings until an obnoxious voice came on the line.

" _Well, well, well. If it isn't Romano! How's the new life treating you, eh? For what reason are you calling the awesome Gilbert at—"_ There was a pause, _"—what? It's only ten? Damn I thought it was later than that."_

Was it just Lovino, or did he seem even more insufferable every time he spoke to him? A groan rose up out of the Italian's throat as he tried to plan out what to say. If he said the wrong thing, Gilbert could go on for _hours_ …

"It's Lovino, albino bastard, and I need a favor from you."

" _Ah, it's been forever since I've heard that insult! You should come back to the dark side. It's obviously more fun, and I'm there so of course it's awesome!"_

Drumming his fingers and resting his upper body against the edge of the kitchen counter, Lovino absentmindedly played with his cat's ear. The creature closed its eyes in contentment and began emitting a low purr. "I'll pass. Now, can you check something for me?"

Lovino heard him mutter something about him not being awesome before he raised his voice, _"Fine, what do you need?"_

"Ok, there's someone trying to kill me. Find out whatever you can about it."

This piqued the man's interest _. "Oh? Finally something exciting! Which one are they after? Lovino or Romano?"_

The Italian thought about it. "Probably both. Just let me know if you find anything in the underworld, capiche?"

" _Yeah, yeah. I'll check around. You're paying me for this, right?"_ Lovino rolled his eyes, although he knew that the albino couldn't see him.

"No shit, Sherlock."

" _You've still got that piss-poor attitude, I see."_ Gilbert whined. Petting the cat too much, Lovino earned himself a hiss as the animal jumped off the counter and scampered away. Damn cat.

"And you're still obnoxiously in love with yourself."

" _Hey! Ah, well, I guess that isn't false. How can anyone resist the awesome me?"_

Lovino let out a breath of disgust. Shaking his head, the Italian had had enough for one night. "I'm hanging up now. Text me when you get the results."

" _Kesesesese. Got it."_

Lovino hung up the phone and slid it carelessly across the marble top. The device didn't go far, stopping just a few inches form him at an angle.

Strangely, it was after these rambunctious kinds of phone calls that he felt the silence engulf him and felt the true weight of being alone on his shoulders. It could be rather suffocating at times. Not wanting to activate him phobia, he shrugged off the thoughts and headed for bed—his dreams hopefully a good enough remedy to escape his twisting reality.

~x~

 _A few days later…_

It was hot. Too hot. A trail of fresh sweat ran down the side of his face as he tried to modify his breathing. Why was there no air conditioning in this place? Lovino tugged at his collar, attempting to let whatever cold air there was onto his burning chest. It wasn't working very well.

Holding up his silver gun in his left hand, he looked back at Antonio, who followed his example and nodded his head. A quick look from beyond the wall revealed bored men standing around and chatting quietly, thus confirming that no one had heard their entrance. All right. It looked like everything was going to plan. Lovino held up three fingers and began counting them off silently.

 _In 3…2…1…_

As soon as the last finger folded, Lovino and Antonio swung around the corner, opening fire on the unsuspecting men. They jumped in surprise at the sudden assault and scrambled to grab their neglected guns. Pointing the weapons right at the duo, Lovino clutched onto Antonio's shirt and pulled him around another corner for cover. A group of shots hit their hiding place they were behind the next second, shaking the wall and ebbing away the weak exterior little by little. Lovino's eyes trailed after the dust as small chucks of stone floated to the ground. He clicked his tongue. This defense wasn't going to last.

Waiting for a lull in shots, Lovino spun back around and watched the remaining men fall the moment his bullets hit their bodies. It wasn't long before a second wave of enemies came, Lovino and Antonio back-to-back as they fired and avoided incoming hits. Lovino punched a charging guy in the face with his gun—knocking him out cold—while Antonio roundhouse kicked a man in the stomach. They then switched sides, shooting a few careless men and sending them to the floor.

"So, Lovi…uh, can we talk about the whole people out to get you thing?"

Lovino almost let the weapon slip out of his hand as he elbowed another guy in the nose. A long sigh came out of Lovino's mouth. Oh, no. Not _again_.

Ever since Arthur had called them into his office that Friday night, Antonio had been extra protective of Lovino. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, he questioned Lovino and sought more information about possible motives and suspects. He was by his side during every part of the day, and even when they were about to head home, he didn't leave until he saw Lovino safely in is car driving away. A small, unacknowledged part of Lovino took pleasure in the attention, but the prideful, more independent side of him considered his efforts unnecessary. Lovino had been looking after himself and his brother since the day he was born. He didn't need anyone to save him or tell him how to protect himself.

Grabbing another man and twisting his arm, Lovino shot Antonio a look.

"You couldn't have picked a better time to bring this up? We're right in the middle of a job!"

The Spaniard avoided a few bullets before crouching and shooting at the enemies' feet. "I just thought about it! Lovi, why would anyone try to take you out?"

"Well-I don't know-maybe because of this?" Lovino clamped onto an off-guard thug, twisting his neck until he heard a snap. Antonio paused for a moment as he watched the man fall to the cold cement.

"Good point. But I don't know. Something just seems off."

The battlefield had turned silent as soon as he finished speaking, leaving Lovino and Antonio to stand in the middle of the room surrounded by defeated bodies. Lovino opened his mouth to say something, but paused when he saw Antonio quickly raise his finger to his lips in a quieting motion. What the hell was he doing? Who does he think he is, shushing him—

Then he heard it: a faint shuffle and a light clang against something medal. How was Antonio able to hear _that_? Sharing an understanding nod, the duo began making their way towards the sound.

With a loud voice, Lovino spoke, "Oh? There's none left already? How boring. What should we do, bastard?"

"I want you to tell me what you aren't telling me." Antonio deadpanned. Lovino shot him a warning look as they walked over a few bodies. Fuck, did Antonio suspect something? But that didn't make sense—there was no way he could know anything. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Well, when we get back to base, anyway. But for now, should we head back?"

"There's nothing for me to tell, bastard. Yeah, let's go—I don't think the boss is here anyway," Lovino commented, reaching the edge of the room where a large crate was placed. Moving to both sides, the duo tiptoed around the wooden object. In a swift movement, Lovino snatched the hidden man that was trying to scramble away, while Antonio held him down.

"Release me! I'll send more men to fucking kill you if you don't let me go!"

The matching image of the man from the file flashed in Lovino's head, confirming that this was the boss they were looking for. He pulled handcuffs from his pocket, and—while Antonio pressed his front to the floor—Lovino closed them around his wrists.

"You're under arrest, bastard."

The duo lifted the cursing man up and pushed him forward. Antonio tightened his hold on the man, making it harder for him to struggle.

"Look Lovi, I know there's a big piece of this case that you aren't mentioning. If we just—" Antonio was cut off by the sudden appearance of several armed men heading towards them.

A growl erupted from Lovino as he pushed the boss into Antonio's arms and smashed his fists into two of the men's faces. He was getting frustrated. Why did everyone assume he wasn't capable of handling the situation himself? First, Arthur suggests he go into protective custody as soon as he walks into work on Monday morning after receiving another death notice, and then Antonio's hounding him like a naive child! It was just a couple of attacks, and those men that were killed probably weren't even professionally trained. He was Lovino _fucking_ Vargas! If he couldn't take care of a few assassination attempts, he wasn't worthy of being a Vargas _or_ a detective.

He spun around to face a busy Antonio, who was struggling to keep the boss in his grasp while trying to protect himself.

"Forget about it! I told you I could handle it myself! Besides, it doesn't concern you," he snapped, forcefully kicking the two men off Antonio and the boss.

Antonio and Lovino weren't even paying attention to the fact that no more thugs were coming. They were having a showdown of their own. Fume came from Lovino's ears as he stared down his worried partner.

"Im just trying to help you, Lovi. The more people you have on the same page, the easier it will be for you."

Lovino clenched his fists, his anger bubbling up inside his chest. "Well, I don't need _you_ or any your help. You're just in the way! Just...Just leave me alone!"

Grabbing the struggling boss by the back of his collar, Lovino stomped off and dragged the protesting man out of the building. As he stomped off towards the back-up team and handed the cuffed man to them, he tried to rid his mind of the wounded expression that had graced the Spaniard's face as soon as he spoke those words.

What he had said to him was true. But for some reason, it didn't _feel_ true. In fact, why did it feel so _wrong_?

~x~

As soon as the door to his small apartment closed, Lovino carelessly threw down his messenger bag and tossed his coat on the couch. He straight for his bookshelf, pushing aside his collection of classic novels to find the beige file Arthur had given him. Picking it up, Lovino walked over to his kitchen and flipped on the lights. His cat hopped onto the counter to investigate his owner's movements (and nudge him for food, of course) as he spread out the contents of the file.

There, in front of him, was all the information gathered by all the investigators since Feliciano's private case first was first registered several years ago. His eyes quickly scanned overthe many photographs of his smiling brother, along with a few that included Lovino himself, his grandfather, and other relatives and friends. There were several papers, including notes on the night of the kidnapping and witness accounts, as well as profiles on potential suspects.

A black car flashed in Lovino's mind, putting a scowl on the Italian's lips as images from that night flowed back into his head. It seemed so long ago since he had actually let himself freely think about it. The other times when his past tried to creep up on him left him in more emotional pain than when he started. It was pointless.

But now, he had all the facts in front of him. Somehow, this file was going to help him find his brother, and finally find resolution.

One covered picture caught his eye, urging him to push away the shielding papers so he could look at it. The photo was of a middle-aged male suspect who had links to being in the area that night. The other important part was written in bold black letter, offering the best possible motive Lovino could think of.

If he could somehow link this man to Feli, then it would prove that what he saw that night wasn't true.

Placing the profile in front of him and away from the others, Lovino opened the laptop and began searching. A few minutes later, a notification that he found a match popped up on his computer. He wrote down the information and headed for the bedroom. This trip would certainly require a change in attire.

His thoughts somehow drifted to Antonio once again that night, forcing feelings of guilt deep down in his heart and locking them away. He needed to distract himself. As he pulled on a deep red V-neck, he pushed away any mental image of Antonio and emptied his brain of anything that didn't include his main objective.

After all, he had a job to do.

~x~

The older man at the counter sipping on his drink was not having a good night. First, he had been yelled at and threatened by his boss for making a tiny mistake on the job—one that really anyone could have made if they weren't paying attention. Second, he had lost is keys in the whole process and had gotten locked out of his apartment. So there he was, killing time at the local bar while they made him a new set of keys. It wasn't absolutely horrible to spend his time downing drinks and watching people come and go, but it wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his night at his age.

Rubbing his weary eyes, the man didn't notice the squeak of the stool next to him.

"Ciao, bello."

He raised his eyes to look up at the owner of the honey sweet voice. And boy—did this man look sweet. With neatly trimmed auburn hair and dazzling golden eyes, this guy was the type that could capture your heart with one smile. He himself was an older man now, but he knew how to appreciate beauty whenever he saw it.

Placing his half-empty drink down on the complimentary white napkin, the man adjusted himself to face his attractive acquaintance.

"My, aren't you beautiful. What's your name?"

The young man leaned his elbow on the counter, his lips curving up in another sweet smile.

"Asking for my name already? You haven't even bought me a drink yet."

The old man let out a hearty laugh before nodding and turning to the bartender. After getting the drinks, the older man perused his drinking partner. Lean and sensual, with a crimson shirt and black pants. This man looked like the very definition of sexy. Surely one night with this beautiful specimen of a man would raise his spirits and make him forget about everything bad that had happened that day. And—almost telepathically—it seemed he had read the older man's mind.

"Wanna meet me out back in five?" he suggested, taking a heavy sip from the glass.

The older man nodded eagerly. How lucky was he? "Wouldn't miss it, honey."

He watched as the younger man left and took a long appreciative look of his back side. After he was out of view, the older man downed the rest his drink and fixed his hair before strutting out of the bar to meet the handsome young man.

He pushed open the heavy door, letting a group of young twenty-somethings into the bar as he did so. Walking towards the end of the alleyway, he squinted his eyes and looked around. However, he didn't see any movement or color in the darkness of the night.

"Hello? Beautiful?" He called out, hearing his voice echo back to him, yet receiving no answer. Maybe the man decided to go home? He took a few steps around the alley, not venturing too far before deciding to go back into the club.

 _Click._

"Don't move, bastard."

The older man froze, recognizing both the _click_ sound and the sweet voice from the bar that had suddenly turned menacing. He began to raise his trembling hands, but stopped when he felt the cold metal object at the back of his head.

"I said don't move, you filthy scum. Now, you are going to answer all of my questions. If you don't, this," _Press_ , "Is going to end up in the back of your skull, capiche?"

Coming from a background of crime, the older man knew when someone was bluffing. He was terrified to realize that this man, however, was not. This guy was the real deal.

He nodded compliantly, his throat becoming dryer by the minute and his heart beat accelerating to record speeds.

"I'll answer anything you want. Just please, don't kill me!" He cried with his legs and hands clearly shaking by now. Disgusted by his fear, the young man pressed the gun deeper into his head.

"Now, fucker," His voice dropping to a low growl, "Tell me what you know about Feliciano Vargas."

* * *

 **Author's Note: You probably already noticed, but i'm going for the whole slow romance thing between Lovino and Antonio. I'm not usually one for going so slow, but I really wanted to spend the time to develop their relationship and attraction towards each other through their interactions with the plot. This has been my OTP for like over a year, so i'm happy to devote as much time as possible to my babies. 3 They will get there all in due time!**

 **Also, if you're wondering how long this story will be, I estimate the length to be around 90k and ~18 chapters. So there's still a longgg way to go!**

 **Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. 3 Each and every one gives me inspiration to write. I hope you're all enjoying the story so far! Stay tuned! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 7**_

* * *

Lovino lazily plopped down in his desk chair the next morning. There was a hazy layer of tiredness covering his eyes as he looked over the day's to-do list. Look over files…Collect some data… Call some witnesses… It was an average workload that would allow him some extra time to fit his brother's investigation in his schedule.

A couple of dark dots in the worn ceiling of the office drew the attention of his eyes while his mind floated back to his conversation with that old man in the alleyway. He shivered—disgust filling him as he thought about how the fucker had looked at him. He always hated using the appeal of his body in order to get information, but sometimes it had to be done in order to isolate the target.

And what he had discovered… only confirmed his suspicions.

" _What do you know about Feliciano Vargas?"_

 _The man shook his head violently, the name seeming to not register in his brain._

" _I-I don't know any—" Lovino cut him off with a threatening growl._

" _That's a damn lie. A couple years ago, you were a suspect in his case due to your relations with the De Lucas. Don't you dare tell me that they didn't have it out for the Vargases." He took a step forward towards the quivering man, who was starting to hyperventilate._

" _I-I…haven't been part of the De Lucas in years! After the whole fiasco with that missing kid, I got out. I—" A hard smack against his head caused him to yelp out in pain and clutch at the throbbing area._

" _I didn't ask for your life story, bastard. I asked you to talk about the missing kid. Was it the De Lucas who took him?"_

 _Still clutching his cranium, he straightened up a little. "No, are you kidding? You couldn't even get close to the Vargas brats. You think me or someone from the De Lucas could snatch one of them with that much security around? Yeah, right."_

 _Grabbing onto the man's arm, Lovino twisted the appendage behind his back and slammed him into the wall. Hisses came from both the pinned man and the Italian. "They did once, when they were eight. You fuckers practically traumatized them! Why wouldn't they do it again?"_

" _That was before the De Lucas made a peace agreement with the Vargases. As far as I know, it's still intact to this day."_

" _So you had nothing to do with Feliciano's kidnapping? You better not be lying otherwise I will not hesitate to put this bullet in the back of your balding head." He demonstrated the threat, digging the metal object snuggly into his exposed skin._

 _There was a new wave of panic in his voice. "N-no! I was just in the area, I swear! I don't know any more than that. Please, let me go!"_

" _If I find out you ever were somehow involved with my brother's disappearance, I will find you and personally make sure you vanish off the fucking face of this earth. Got it?"_

" _Y-yes, I understand. Please—" The man paused for a moment in realization, "'Brother'…?"_

 _Feeling the hold removed from his back, the old man spun around—only to face an empty alley filled with steam, scattered trash, and a few rays of moonlight._

The pencil Lovino had been brutishly tapping against his desk snapped between his fingers. Tossing the broken, useless instrument in the trash can, Lovino pushed back his auburn locks in an attempt to cool his head as he leaned back in his chair. Ok, he had to think this through.

Well, he hadn't known that there was an agreement between the two families. It had to have been done privately without Feli or Lovino knowing about it. The De Lucas were one of their greatest rivals at the time, and they were the only ones with the power and resources enough to challenge the Vargases. But if they had really negotiated a peace treaty, neither side would dare violate it. Broken agreements were as bad as breaking the law or betraying your own kind; it was unacceptable by any standards. If their agreement was still valid to this day, that meant that the De Lucas had done nothing to break it.

Which also meant that they didn't take Feli.

The man had also made another good point. If any other people had tried to take one of the grandsons, they would have had to face security systems and countless guards. This would have made it almost impossible for an ordinary person to get passed. Unless… the person that took Feli didn't have to get through all those precautions.

Lovino groaned, throwing his head into his lap. So it was true then. He had spent years denying it and trying to push the thoughts away—somehow hoping he was wrong. But with the facts laid out in front of him, there was no doubt about it.

It had been an inside job. And he had a good idea about who the culprit was.

"Shit." Lovino muttered under his breath.

"If you're cursing this early in the morning, either you must have had a hard night or you haven't had coffee yet."

The Italian looked up towards the voice to see his blonde assistant, who wore a pleasant smile and held out a mug of the steaming liquid gold.

"Both, actually. Thanks." He took the cup from Matthew's hand, making sure to grip the handle in orderto avoid burning his fingertips. The smile faltered for a moment in the Canadian's (it was hard _not_ to know he was from Canada with the amount of red and white maple leaf ties he owned) happy expression as Lovino took a sip of the caffeinated drink.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Lovino stared down at his reflection in the dark liquid, pondering whether he was actually in the mood to talk or not. Although Matthew was his assistant and came in to the office only three times a week, he found the blonde a good person to talk to—whether it was complaining or taking his stress out on someone. The Canadian didn't seem to mind, and even shared some of his opinions. Personal issues, however, were not big on Lovino's list of things to talk about with co-workers. Or with anyone, for that matter.

"Not really," he decided. Matthew nodded silently, but still didn't move away.

"Does this have anything to do with Antonio?"

Now, that caught Lovino's attention. A nicely arched eyebrow greeted the Canadian. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, after you guys returned from your last job, he was sulking around the station like a lost puppy. All the girls were trying to comfort him. Did you yell at him?"

The good thing about last night's mission: it had succeeded in taking his mind off his overbearing partner. The bad thing: now that he was reminded of what had happened in their last assignment, he felt the extent of guilt and irritation rush back to him ten-fold what it had been before.

"I might have… a little."

Had he been that much of an asshole to Antonio? It was his fault for hounding him! He should just stay out of his business. And he shouldn't be so sensitive! Those women were like vultures. If you show weakness, they'll—

Lovino swallowed, not too sure he liked the idea of Antonio crying on someone else's shoulder. Maybe he should just get it over with and try to talk to him. Standing up out of his chair, Lovino looked directly at a surprised Matthew.

"Fine, where is he?"

After he had shot him a knowing smile (which Lovino really didn't appreciate), Matthew took a moment to think before shaking his head. "I didn't see him come in this morning, actually."

"What? Well where else would the bastard be?"

"No idea. Maybe Chief had him do something? I have to go print some labels for these files." He lifted the stack of beige folders up for emphasis before pressing them to his chest again, "Good luck."

Lovino huffed in frustration, deciding to see if Antonio's desk area looked used. Walking over to his cubical, he realized that this was the first time he had actually seen Antonio's work space. Antonio had usually come to him—not the other way around.

He first looked over the walls, which were filled up with mini posters of sceneries in Spain, pictures of tomatoes (Lovino approved of this) and other vegetables, and inspirational quotes. His desk was littered with a variety of notepads and writing devices that weren't the most organized, but somehow weren't considered messy either. The last significant thing he noticed was a lone plant next to his computer, still living off the previous day's water. After taking in the decorations, Lovino looked at the computer screen, only to find that the bastard wasn't even logged in.

Why wouldn't he be there? Could something have happened to him? Lovino had been so focused on getting home that he didn't even know when the Spaniard had left. The people that were out to get Lovino…wouldn't have targeted his partner as well, would they? An unsettling feeling began to make its home in the pit of his stomach. Lovino knew the hard answer to that question.

Spinning on his heel, Lovino jogged over to the secretary area, heading straight for the secretary who would be in charge of setting up their schedules. He stopped in surprise when he saw at the specified desk Michelle, who was busy talking on the phone with a client. He hadn't really been over to this side of the office, so learning that Michelle had been in charge of scheduling this whole time was a bit of a shock. Her dark brown pigtails seemed to bounce every time she spoke—something Lovino found youthful but also strangely annoying. When she finally put down the phone, she looked up at Lovino and flashed him a smile.

"Hi Lovino! What can I do for you?"

Lovino tried to ignore the three pairs of eyes watching their exchange, eager to have new material for gossip. _Women_.

"Uh, can you see if Antonio checked in today?"

Leaning her chair a bit more towards him, she shot him a questioning gaze. "Checked in? What are you talking about? Antonio has the day off."

He blinked, a twitch forming in his left eye. "What?! Are you kidding me?"

Michelle's eyes fell to her computer, her fingers quickly gliding over the keyboard before she pointed to the screen. "Yeah. He requested to have this day free," Her gaze was back on Lovino, "Did he not tell you?"

He clicked his tongue. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tried to look like he didn't care. Who did that bastard think he was? Making him panic and worry like that? When he saw him, he was going to—

Lovino froze. What? What could he do?

He thanked and flashed an appreciative smile at the confused secretary before turning away. As soon as he was facing the opposite way, three heads dove down behind the safety of their cubical wall. He mentally registered the fact that they were eavesdropping, but at that moment he didn't care. He quickly walked back down the hall, making sure to glare at the women if they dared to sneak-a-peak at the Italian.

Why was he getting so angry? Lovino had no right to be—what Antonio did in his free-time was his business, and if he decided to take the day off, he didn't need to tell Lovino a thing. They were partners for work and that was all, yet somehow he had a hard time convincing himself that that was all they were.

"Damn it all." He whispered to himself, an apprehensive feeling coming over him as he went back to work.

~x~

As the last employee left the building and the lights automatically shut off, Lovino reminded himself that there were no such things as ghosts or demons and went back to gathering up his things.

He quickly put his belongings in his messenger bag, leaving his packed up bag to rest on his desk seat. He headed down the hall, coming to a stop in front of a locked door. With his trusty key card in hand, Lovino waited for the green light to flash before he heard a click and pushed the door opened. His footsteps echoed against the concrete as he walked alongside the narrow black wall that separated him from the large expanse of the room. Grabbing a pair of headphones, goggles, and a gun from the supply cabinet, the Italian positioned himself at his favorite stall—the third to last one.

Once all preparations were ready and he had the protective gloves snuggly on, Lovino loaded the gun and raised it to adjust his aim. His eyes zeroed in on the faceless cardboard silhouette across the room that hung quietly in the air, taunting him. A few seconds passed by before a loud crackle sounded through the air—the force sending the Italian a step back. Lovino smirked, lowering the gun to see that he had hit the cardboard man just where he wanted: squarely in the head.

Ah, there was nothing like staying late at the station and honing your shooting skills. It may have been a little bit creepy, but it was one of Lovino's favorite forms of stress relief when he had a problem he couldn't solve or just had a lot on his mind. To him, practice shooting beat the usual forms of stress relief, such as calling someone or listening to music. Who would he call, anyway? It wasn't like he had any friends.

Lovino fired a couple more shots at the cardboard cut-out, hitting it's stomach, feet area, and lastly, it's heart. He felt like the cardboard man was too easy to defeat, so he moved on to the more advanced zone, in which he was supposed to hit a moving target. Adjusting the level of difficulty and pressing the 'go' button, he trained his eyes on the zig-zagging motion of the 'man'. The grip of his hands remained in a steady position—never moving until he saw that right opportunity.

 _There_. His body shifted downwards as he shot the bullet, watching a dark hole form in the shoulder of the moving silhouette. A 'tch' came from the Italian. Well, that was to be expected. It was on the hardest level of difficulty after all.

He restarted the machine, firing again and again until he finally hit the cardboard man in the heart and head. He mentally cheered for himself, guiltily imagining applause to support his achievement. Yet when his mind had calmed and he lowered his gun, he still heard the muffled noise of applause. Lovino whipped his head around in confusion, stopping once he saw a familiar figure standing away from him.

He pulled off the headphones, a sense of noise clarity hitting him instantly.

"Antonio?"

The Spaniard was wearing dark blue jeans and a loose purple V-neck with short sleeves. This was probably the first time Lovino had seen him in casual wear, and he had to admit—it really suited him. Antonio always gave off a sense of nonchalance and informality, so things like suits and ties made him look out of his element.

Digging his fingers into his pockets but leaving his thumbs hanging out, Antonio smiled—enough for those cute dimples of his to make their full appearance.

"Hola, Lovi."

His rich Spanish voice provided a familiar calm for Lovino—one that made him comfortable to be himself or say whatever's on his mind. He wanted to yell at him, to reprimand him for not telling he was going to be gone, he stopped himself.

That was right—he had no reason to be angry.

Deciding he was done for the day, Lovino walked over to the supply cabinet to remove the bullets from his gun. As he did so, he tried to be as casual as possible.

"Well, bastard, how was your day off? Did you do something idiotic and stupid?"

Antonio laughed, taking a few steps closer to the busy Italian. "It was great! You know my amigos I told you about? Well, I got to see them today!"

His hands paused, cradling the bullets between the pads of his fingers. "Oh, really."

So Antonio had spent the day screwing around with is so-called friends while Lovino was running around like a fool looking for him? He felt stupid for even worrying about the bastard. Well it was at least a vacation within itself—a vacation from Lovino. Antonio didn't need Lovino; he was sociable and happy and could make the best of any situation without the grumpy Italian there.

Lovino's eyes widened in surprise. Oh _no_. He couldn't have actually _wanted_ Antonio to need him. It wasn't like he needed the Spaniard... did he? Lovino swallowed, emotions that he had long since buried resurfacing.

Lovino had decided at the pubescent age of thirteen that he didn't need anyone. Not his brother. Not his MIA parents. And definitely not his grandfather. He would get by in this world on his own strength, and if he had an issue, he got through it using his own power. Relying on others only made you weak, as he had seen with many of his classmates in the academy and his current co-workers. People failed when that pillar that they had been leaning against suddenly disappeared, leaving them like a newborn calf that doesn't even know how to stand up.

The fact that the _thought_ of relying on the Spaniard even popped up in his mind scared him. Fuck.

Placing the gun securely in the cabinet and locking it, Lovino pulled off his goggles.

"What are you even doing here? The point of having a day off is to stay away from work, idiot."

"Ah, well, I came here to see you, actually."

Lovino turned his head to him, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Why? You'll see me tomorrow." Antonio rubbed the back of his neck in a shy manner.

"I'm not so sure myself. I just…wanted to."

What… what was that supposed to mean? Antonio really expected him to believe that he drove all this way just to see him? What was he supposed to say at this moment? He decided to take the easy way out and avoid answering. Peeling off his glove set, Lovino threw them down on the table and walked past the Spaniard.

"Time to go, bastard."

As he neared the exit of the training room, he heard his name echo across the room. He turned his body half way to face Antonio as he jogged up to him.

"Have you eaten?"

Lovino had not eaten. In fact, he was so wrapped up in own thoughts that he even forgot to have lunch. Before he could even make a decision for himself, his stomach alerted the Spaniard with a growl. Antonio chuckled while Lovino avoided his eyes and clenched his stomach. Damn traitor.

"I take that as a yes. Come on, I know the perfect place."

His partner flashed him that wonderful, bright smile of his as he grabbed onto his shoulders and pushed Lovino out of the room.

He didn't protest as much as he thought he should have.

~x~

"Welcome!"

As soon as the light illuminated the area, Lovino's eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness. He blinked a couple times, scanning his surroundings as he did so. He shot a look at the Spaniard smiling in the doorway.

"And the perfect place is…your apartment?"

"Si! You'll see why in a minute." Antonio winked at him before running off to another room, leaving Lovino to freely look over his partner's living space.

Walking past the entry way and laying his messenger bag on a nearby table, Lovino looked over the living room. It was smaller than his own, with one burgundy leather couch, a glass coffee table, and a black widescreen TV on the wall. It may not have been very big, but it did give off that cozy feeling that made it really feel like a home.

He ran his fingers across the DVDs on the wooden bookshelf in the corner, silently chuckling at some of the movies and shows that he owned. A lot were in Spanish, but the section of American films was all of the ones that Lovino would never admit to liking but secretly loved.

When he heard footsteps approaching him, Lovino turned to face a grinning Antonio, who was now wearing an apron with the word 'España' written all over it. He had his hands hidden securely behind his back where Lovino couldn't see, which only elevated the Italian's curiosity.

"What's with the ridiculous apron?" Antonio looked down at his attire, slowly smoothing out any wrinkles in the fabric with one hand.

"It's always best to cook comfortably, no? Here," Antonio removed his other hand from his back and handed Lovino a neatly folded tomato apron, "This one's mi favorito, but, I'll let you borrow it for tonight."

The Italian reached out and took the article of clothing, opening it to see the festive red tomato design that decorated the whole thing. Lovino wanted to object—to scoff at the idea of 'cute' aprons and 'silly' patterns. However…

Lovino stared Antonio in the eye, explicit seriousness in his expression.

"You have a tomato apron. Do you know how fucking awesome that is?"

An astonished smile came from Antonio. "You like tomatoes, Lovi?"

"Like them? I'm practically married to them. We have three kids and a golden retriever." As he led Lovino to the kitchen, Antonio faked shock.

"Whaaaat? I thought I was married to them first! Ah, the betrayal! Mi corazon!" Lovino chuckled, still in possession of the coveted cloth piece.

"Tough luck, bastard. Now, what the hell are we doing?"

A smirk spread across the Spaniard's lips. Grabbing a ladle from the counter, he pointed it at a perplexed Lovino. "Mi amigo, we are going to cook!"

Lovino rolled his eyes at the obvious statement. "I figured that much. I meant, what the hell are we cooking?"

"You can cook whatever you want! It's a competition, so make your best dish." Antonio gestured to all the ingredients he had placed on the counter, including pots, pans, and many utensils. Lovino vaguely recalled Antonio challenging him to a cook-off a while back. He wanted to cash in on that _now_? Weird bastard. Well, he better not come crying to him when he loses.

Un-wrapping the apron and putting it on himself, Lovino tied the strings around his waist in a loose hanging bow. "You're on, tomato bastard."

With that affirmation, the two men went to work. Lovino immediately began boiling the water, his mind still undecided about which type of pasta to use. Should he use fettuccine? Penne? Farfalle? If he was going to win this 'competition' of theirs, he had better prepare his signature item: Penne Bolognese, which was penne pasta with beef, garlic, mushroom and red bell pepper in a tomato sauce. If anything would knock the Spaniard's socks off, it was this.

While he worked, Lovino remembered a time when he hadn't known how to cook or look after himself. A loving family, people to cook and clean after him, no worries or responsibilities—he used to think he had it all. But once his parents had practically dumped him and his brother with their widowed grandfather and took off, things changed. Lovino took his mother's place in caring for and nagging at Feli—beating up bullies, making sure he ate the lunch he made him instead of giving it away to his hungry friends, and yelling at him when he did something stupid. He got a little stricter, a lot less trusting, and sure as hell capable. If he had anything to thank his failure of a parents for, it was for that.

His talent in cooking, however, came naturally. He was an Italian, after all. He had it down to an art, enough to where he could probably make a whole meal of pasta in his sleep. The great thing about pasta was that the taste never got old; he could imagine having it every night if he could.

Putting the finishing touches to his masterpiece, Lovino proudly stared down at the dish in front of him. Steam from the freshly boiled pasta swirled up into the air, while the heavenly mix of the spices and marinara sauce sent his nose to cloud 9. A long glance over at Antonio's side showed that he was also almost finished as he leaned over the counter to sprinkle a few extra spices over whatever he had made. Getting impatient and worrying that the food would get cold, Lovino tapped his foot.

"You ready, bastard?"

"Almost…mmm, there!" Antonio popped up and smiled at Lovino, "Done."

Grabbing the hot dish with his protective mitt, the Italian nodded towards the exit, "Great. Now let's actually eat the damn food before we die of starvation."

"Ok! Follow me~" With his dish in hand and two sets of silverware, Antonio led them out of the room and to a small dining area. They placed the steaming dishes in front of their respective opponents before taking their seats across from each other.

"This better have damn well been worth the wait," Lovino commented, picking up his spoon to take on the strange dish in front of him. What was this called? He lowered the utensil to collect what looked like a mixture of rice, vegetables, and meat. "What is this, anyway?"

"You've never had paella before, Lovi? It's one of the main dishes in Spain!"

Lovino bit his lip, hesitant to try it. He took the filled spoon and raised it his mouth. When his mind finally registered the taste, Lovino's taste buds exploded with zest. It was almost like the different spices were dancing upon his tongue in a heated tango, which seemed fitting for a dish of the country of passion.

"Well? How is it?" Antonio inquired, his emerald eyes staring at the Italian in anticipation. Looking up at him and quickly back down at his food, Lovino took another bite.

"I guess… it's not bad. Edible, at the very least."

Lovino wanted to smack the goofy smile that had taken over the Spaniard's face, but decided he was too weak from hunger to do that at that moment. His eyes fell to his dish that was in front of Antonio, which was completely untouched.

"What the hell? Why aren't you eating?"

Antonio blinked and laughed. "Oh! I wanted to see your reaction to my cooking. Don't worry: I will eat now!"

Muttering a quiet 'I wasn't worried', he watched the Spaniard dig his metal fork into a few coated penne and pop them into his mouth. Antonio's expression turned from one of neutrality to surprise and, lastly, to one of happiness.

"Lovi, this is magnifico! You have the talents of a gourmet cook!"

Lovino took another couple bites of the paella, his elbows resting on the edge of the table in a nonchalant manner. "I'm not that good, but I appreciate your enthusiasm."

The Spaniard shook his head, "No, I'm serious! This is the best Italian dish I've ever tasted!"

The insistent compliment that came from Antonio made him blush in embarrassment. Praise was something Lovino never expected to receive, even when he was younger. It made him uncomfortable, and he always lacked the right words to respond with. He was the type that did everything in the shadows, away from prying eyes. But with Antonio gazing at him like he was the best thing in the world, he supposed it wasn't such a bad thing to be recognized from time to time.

Leaning his head into his hand, Lovino suddenly smirked.

"So, does that mean I won the cook-off?" Antonio chuckled, stabbing for another mouthful of pasta.

"I suppose so. Now you get to pick a reward."

"A reward?" Lovino repeated, his eyebrow arching in a peculiar manner. They hadn't discussed this when they had first planned the cooking competition. With a confirming nod from the Spaniard, Antonio's smile seemed a bit... devious.

"Si! Anything you want from me, I will give you."

Anything? He could have anything from Antonio, and he would give it to him? For some reason, his mind traveled to thoughts that weren't appropriate for a person to have towards their partner and co-worker. He tried to swat them away, but they were like flies—annoying and constantly returning.

"What do you want, Lovi?"

Woah, was it just him or did Antonio's voice get deeper? As he stared into those half-lidded green eyes, he found that he couldn't pull himself to look away. Did Antonio know he was doing this? With his intellect and air-headed nature, Lovino doubted it.

"I want…"

Fuck, what did he want? Suddenly he was thinking about that night a few days ago, when they had first begun opening up to each other and almost locked lips. It had to have been that, right? He had over-analyzed that event a million times in his head and figured that mood at that time had been unmistakable.

This led him to the only possible conclusion: he had _wanted_ Antonio to kiss him.

But why? Why would he ever be attracted to a grown, male idiot who got excited over the stupidest things? It just didn't make sense. The more he thought about, the more confused he felt.

"I want to... I want to pick out the movie for us to watch."

Antonio sat up, a slight flash of disappointment in his eyes before he was back to his smiling self.

"Sure, Lovi."

Lovino hated directly avoiding things that bothered him, but he honestly didn't know how to approach this. He had never dealt with something like this before.

As they ate the rest of their dinner and cleaned up the table, the duo headed for the living room. Antonio shooed his cat away and fell onto the couch, sprawling himself out and letting out a content sigh.

Lovino watched him out of the corner of his eye as he headed to the bookcase. He scanned the titles quickly and looked for something that caught his eye. He chuckled when he saw one particular title, pulling out the DVD to show the Spaniard.

"You have _Mamma Mia_?"

Antonio lifted his head up to look at the cover. "Ah, si! It's one of my favorites! I know all the songs."

Lovino rolled his eyes, mumbling an 'of course you do' under his breath as he pulled out the round disk and put it into the DVD player. Antonio looked at him as he did this, like a question was on his mind.

"What, bastard?" he asked with a sigh.

"Nothing. I just thought you'd pick something more... I don't know, action-packed?"

He scoffed. "I get enough action in my everyday life, why do I need to see it in movies?"

The disk slid into the player, the customized menu popping up on the TV screen. Lovino walked over the couch, Antonio scooting over to make room for him. As Lovino got comfortable, the Spaniard pressed the 'play button' on the controller.

They then began watching the movie, making little comments here and there about different scenes.

Lovino lifted is arms to gesture to the blonde actress on the screen. "How can she invited all three of her possible fathers an expect things to go well? Seriously."

"Well she doesn't know which one it is, Lovi."

"She should have just gotten a test like everything else would. Or just asked her mother. Then it would save everyone the trouble." There was a pause for a moment before Antonio suddenly nudged Lovino's arm.

"Oh, Lovi, listen! This is one of the best songs in the musical!"

The duo watched as the actors on the screen began singing. Crossing his arms, Lovino scowled. "It's the freakin' title of the movie! Of course it's the best one!"

Antonio whipped his head to Lovino, a strange glint in his eye. "Do you know the words?"

"Of course not! This is a freaking chick flick! Why do you own it, anyway?"

"Because it's a great movie! Besides, why did you pick it?"

Lovino opened his mouth to concur, but let out a huff instead. "Uh...because...because all your other stuff was shit! This was the only decent movie."

"Say what you want, Lovi~"

Getting up from his seat, Antonio disappeared down the hallway. Lovino tried to keep his mind on the movie, but he would be lying if his eyes hadn't trailed after him. Curiosity took over him when the Spaniard didn't return for another minute. Where the hell did that bastard go?

Lovino tapped his fingers on the arm rest impatiently until he noticed something below him. Peering over the side of the couch, Lovino stared at Antonio's furry cat.

"What do you want?"

España meowed, nudging at Lovino's leg in affection. Why was this cat clinging to him? He was almost as bad as his owner!

"No, no. Go away. Shoo."

The cat, however, didn't budge. Crouching down, España launched himself up into the air and onto Lovino's lap. Just fucking wonderful.

Just then, Antonio walked back into the living room holding a large Spanish guitar. He looked up from tuning the strings to find Lovino and his cat sharing a 'tender moment.'

"Aw, Lovi. Look, he likes you! Muy lindo~" Yep—like cat, like owner. Lovino rolled his eyes, picking up the fat cat and placing him on the floor.

"Enough about this damn cat. Why the hell are you pulling _that_ out?"

Antonio smiled and held up the guitar. "I was thinking we could sing together. You know, on the parts we know."

"How about, _no_."

Taking back his spot on the couch, the Spaniard pouted.

"Aw, come on. It'll be fun!"

His fingers strummed a few of the guitar strings, filling the air with an eloquent blend of music. He brought his eyes up to Lovino's, the curve of his lips just enough to draw the Italian in. And to make matters worse, a song from the movie had come on. Antonio immediately took to it, strumming along and singing in a silky, smooth voice. And he sang it well—his accent adding an enriching exoticness to the song.

Closing his eyes, Lovino just sat there and listened. It was calming listening to him, almost like he had heard his singing before in a long forgotten dream. It felt like the two of them were somewhere far away from everything, sitting on a porch and singing their worries away.

Before he knew it, he was humming along. It _was_ a good song after all. Antonio noticed the quiet addition, but didn't say anything. If this was Lovino's way of contributing, he certainly wasn't one to protest.

After the song had ended, the duo watched the rest of the movie in comfortable silence. It wasn't until near the end of the movie that he felt a weight on his shoulder. Lovino was about to yell at Antonio for being too heavy when he saw that his eyes were closed—his mouth curved into a content smile. His words died in his throats as the annoyance disappeared from his system. He didn't have the heart to shout at someone who was sleeping so peacefully.

As the credits rolled on, suddenly Lovino felt tired as well. The side of his face touched the Spaniard's shoulder for a second before he ripped his head away. No, he couldn't sleep! He still needed to get home and feed his cat and…

A sleeping Antonio nuzzled Lovino's hair—a happy sigh coming from the man's lips. Lovino was glad he couldn't see him then, otherwise he'd probably see the red blush that was now sporting on his face. Lovino groaned in exasperation. Damn bastard didn't even know what he was doing.

As his mind began to drift off to sleep, Lovino felt a buzz come from his pants' pocket. Lazily, he reached into it and pulled out his phone, which reported that he had 1 new message. Unlocking the phone, Lovino opened the message that had come from an unknown number. As soon as he saw the beginning, he pretty much knew who it was from.

 **[XXX-XXX-XXXX, Message Received at 11:34 p.m.]**

 **Yo Italian brat,**

 **I got the information you asked for. Apparently someone's placed a Gold Hit on you. I've heard differently from various people, but I'm guessing they're offering around $100,000 for your head. You've gotten yourself into some deep shit. Watch your back. And don't forget to pay me for my awesome services!**

Great. Just fucking peachy. He had assumed it was something like that, but a damn Gold Hit?! This bastard wasn't messing around.

Oh, fuck it. Lovino threw down his phone and pressed his face into the warm, soft shoulder of his partner. Instantly he was hit with Antonio's smell—a combination of cinnamon spices and the earth ground. And Lovino, undeniably, found it intoxicating.

His eyes fluttered closed, all worries from his mind slowly fading away. Lovino nestled against Antonio's warmth, content with ignoring his exacerbating situation and the realities of the world a little while longer.

* * *

Thank you for reading and reviewing! Stay tuned! :)


	8. Chapter 8

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 8**_

* * *

It was the smell of sweet batter and sizzling meat that aroused Lovino from him slumber. He struggled to keep open his heavy eyelids—his mind persuading him that a few more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt. But with a painful ache in his neck and the distant sound of humming, Lovino decided that it was time to get up.

His eyes registered the foreign place that he was in as Antonio's, the previous night's events coming back to him in one surge. The competition, the movie, the Gold Hit—Lovino shook his head. He didn't want to think about it.

He looked over to where Antonio had last been, only to find that his side of the couch was empty. Lovino pushed back the red blanket that had mysterious appeared on him during the night and rubbed his eyes lazily. By the sound and smell of it, Lovino presumed he was in the kitchen.

Laying the blanket to the side and standing on the heels of his feet, he followed the heavenly scent of breakfast. The smell of food was several times stronger as he entered the room, his gaze immediately drawn to the bustling Spaniard. Antonio didn't see Lovino come in as he shifted around the kitchen. His focus was directly on cooking his food, flipping a couple of pancakes and pressing the bacon into the blistering pan.

Massaging his stiff neck, Lovino lazily made his way over to him. Antonio finally noticed the additional presence, a happy smile greeting the tired Italian as Antonio grabbed the coffee pot. He poured them both coffee and handed one of the filled mugs to Lovino.

"Good morning, Lovi." Lovino took the cup in both hands, the warmth from the hot liquid taking the chill off the morning cold. A sip of the coffee sent caffeine flowing into his system, which made him a little more awake.

"Morning, bastard," Lovino's eyes fell on the pans on the stove, "What are you making?"

There were over six pans that the Spaniard was using, each in the process of cooking pancakes, bacon, ham, eggs, French toast, and—Lovino cringed—diced potatoes. Antonio looked down at his work and then at him with a sheepish expression.

"Oh! Since I didn't know what you liked, I just made a little bit of everything!"

Lovino went and sat at the counter across from Antonio, adjusting himself in the tall metal stool.

"You sure go all out. And leave out those damn potatoes." Lovino shivered, "You can have them all."

Antonio chuckled and grabbed two plates from a wooden cabinet. Placing a few items on each plate (except potatoes for Lovino), Antonio held out the food to him. Lovino reached out to take the serving from him, but the Spaniard didn't let go. A need for explanation led Lovino quickly into his trap—his eyes captured by Antonio's mesmerizing green ones.

"I only go all out for people I'm trying to impress, Lovi."

Lovino blushed at the implication while Antonio let go of the plate and turned around to grab silverware out of the drawer. He slowly placed the plate down, his mind filled with a mix of embarrassment and flattery. Making his way over to sit next to Lovino, Antonio handed him a fork and a knife and they began eating.

The duo chatted about the usefulness of tomatoes for the remainder of their breakfast as they finished their food. Lovino touched his filled stomach in satisfaction as Antonio placed their dirty dishes in the sink.

It was a Saturday, so both men were off for the weekend. Antonio offered for him to stay a little longer, but Lovino felt he had well over-stayed his welcome. He still needed to do a few errands around town before he could actually relax. And he should probably feed his starving and angry cat.

"Well at least let me walk you to your car." Antonio insisted, washing his hands and wiping them on the towel next to the sink. As he followed the Italian to the front door, Lovino shook his head and grabbed his messenger bag.

"But you really don't have to, bastard. It's, what, eleven in the morning?"

Pushing open the door, Antonio held the door open with a smile. "No buts. You head down first. I'll meet you down there once…I, uh, "Antonio looked over the floor left and right, "…once I find my shoes!"

Lovino rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself a low 'how do you even lose them?' as he walked past him. He stopped and looked back, "Fine. But be down there soon because I still have shit to do."

The brunette's curly locks fell over his cheeks as he nodded.

"Sure thing!"

Lovino made his way down the three or four flights of stairs of Antonio's apartment building to his black car. Throwing his messenger bag in the passenger seat, the Italian noticed one of his bags of equipment on the floor. Deciding he didn't want to do it later, he snatched the bag and threw it in the trunk. The bag landed on the left side, sitting with an amalgam of other things.

He clicked his tongue. Maybe he should clean out his car? He had been thinking about it for a while, yet his busyness and procrastination had prevented him from getting around to actually doing so. It would have to wait for another day, however, since he still had to do some chores at home, head to the market, and stop by the library to return a book.

With a sigh, Lovino pulled down the hood of the trunk and closed it shut. He was definitely treating himself to a nice tub of gelato tonight.

"Lovi, watch out!"

Lovino didn't register the car that was heading towards him as he looked up in confusion. Before he knew it, a rough tug sent him flying to the asphalt and out of the path of the on-coming vehicle.

What the hell just happened?

Surprise filled him as he looked up at an out-of-breath Antonio, who had made it just in time to save him from being hit. Antonio stared down at him with the utmost concern, his eyes trailing over Lovino's body for any wounds.

"Are you ok, Lovi? Are you hurt?" Lovino shook his head in reply as Antonio held him up.

"I'm fine, bastard. Thanks." Looking back at the car that had apparently tried to run him over, Lovino caught sight of the car's specific characteristics and the unique license plate as it sped away. A chill ran down his spine.

That dark exterior, the expensive curvature of the car, the quick acceleration, and undistinguishable identification—those details led him to the only conclusion he could come up with.

The thugs after the hit money had finally found the real Lovino.

Pushing Lovino back, Antonio stepped forward.

"What the hell was that? Should we call the police?" Lovino was a little thrown off to see an angered Antonio again.

"Idiot, we _are_ the police. And it's all right. They're gone now." When Antonio didn't budge, Lovino hesitantly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The Spaniard seemed perplexed by this, his hardened eyes softening at the touch.

"Are you sure? Maybe we can file a report—"

"Antonio," The man quieted when his name was heard from the Italian's lips, "It's fine."

He wanted to say more, but the way that Lovino's gold eyes told Antonio to trust him kept his mouth shut. With a nod, Antonio conceded.

"Ok, Lovi."

Lovino sighed in relief as he walked over to his car. The last thing he needed was Antonio tied up in this. This was his problem—and he would solve it alone.

Getting into the driver's seat, Lovino heard a knock on the glass to his left and rolled down his window. Antonio leaned his face into view, a smile back on that gorgeous face of his.

"Uh, do you want to have lunch with me tomorrow? There's this little place down the street that I want to try and I've been meaning to stop by sometime but I think it'd be better to go with someone than alone and—"

"Sure, we can do that," he said, cutting off Antonio's rambling.

Antonio stopped talking—an even bigger grin taking over his face. "Really?"

As he put on his seat belt and put his key into the ignition, Lovino smirked.

"Yeah, but you're paying."

He nodded, leaning back from the window. "Ok, I'll see you then!"

"See you tomorrow, bastard." As Lovino backed out of the parking lot, Antonio waved.

"Bye, Lovi!"

Lovino headed back towards his own apartment, his mind racing in a chaotic mess. The hit, his current cases, Antonio—

Turning up the radio, the Italian immersed himself in the song and continued on his way. No matter what, he had to stay on high alert and make sure he wasn't followed.

If he was lucky, the only thing he would have had to deal with that day was the almost accident that morning.

~x~

Lovino wasn't so lucky.

Maybe karma was out to get him, but literally everywhere he went he ran into trouble. The first place he encountered an issue was when he was getting groceries. With a basket full of pasta, vegetables, and lots of tomatoes, Lovino made his way through the aisles towards the checkout.

He quickly paid for his items and, with several bags in his hands, headed for the exit. As he walked through the sliding doors, he felt himself tense and immediately sensed something was amiss. Tossing his heavy plastic bags to the side, Lovino caught the fist that flew at him and blocked the kick that was directed at his legs. His body moved automatically, twisting the attacker's arms around to his back and slamming the man stomach first onto the ground.

The man groaned out in pain as Lovino pinned him to the scorching concrete.

"Why the fuck did you attack me?" Lovino questioned. The man laughed out in shortened breaths.

"I'm not tell—" The Italian grabbed onto his head and smashed it against the hard ground, causing the man to yell out in pain. Lovino didn't even bat an eye.

"You were saying?"

"Ah-h, the…the money. F-for the Gold Hit." He breathed out as blood ran down his face.

Figured. Lovino sat on the man's back, pulling out his phone and requesting for an arrest. As they waited, onlookers passed by and shot skeptical looks at the two men before scurrying on their way. It was probably wiser for them not to get involved. Lovino didn't care.

Minutes later, two men arrived to arrest the man, finally letting Lovino free. Walking over to his tossed groceries, Lovino inspected them to find that only one tomato was bruised. He shrugged, taking a bite out of the red flesh and tasting its juicy bliss before he went on to continue about his day.

But it didn't stop there. Just a few hours later, the next almost attack came at the library.

Lovino loved the library. If there was one consistent hobby he had besides firing a gun, he would have had to say it was reading. But not just anything; he loved hardback, paper books that he could hold in his hand. Even though it was probably more convenient, he was never one for reading on a digital device. He loved to flip the pages, to have at his fingertips a book that had touched the hearts of hundreds of other readers. Maybe he was a bit old fashioned, but that was his own business.

After he had peacefully returned his book, he went to browse the aisles for something new to read. With his hands casually in his pockets, he walked from aisle to aisle, pausing every few minutes or so to read over the description of a novel. When he finally decided on one, he checked out the book and looked out the large windows of the library as he silently walked past the long tables.

As he neared the two large wooden exit doors, Lovino stopped walking and dove into a nearby aisle. Looking through the space between the bookshelves, he caught sight of the two poorly concealed men outside of the front. The big, burly men attempted to blend in with the general population and seem inconspicuous as they pretended to go about their business, but, to Lovino, they stuck out like a sore thumb.

He sighed in annoyance, his eyes scanning his surroundings for a possible escape route. When he caught sight of a large tour group about to leave the building, he made his way over to the small crowd. He kept his head down and exited the building with them, making sure to watch the thugs as he and the tour group made their way down the street and away from them.

Lovino separated from the crowd when he figured it was a safe distance away and took the long route around to retrieve his car. More irritated than ever, Lovino left the library parking lot as fast as he could.

He traveled down the familiar streets of Chicago, the wind from the open driver window gently flowing through his clothes and hair. When Lovino noticed a large dark black car that had been on his trail for a while, he muttered a few curses and sped up. His car took a few sharp turns as he navigated his way through the roads of his city, using his knowledge of the terrain to his advantage. After a few more street curves, Lovino finally lost the car. Fuck, how were they finding him so easily?

Just to be safe, he parked a few streets away from his apartment and got out of his car. He inspected his car for anything abnormal, leaning on his knees and hands to look under the vehicle.

 _There_. Lovino's eyes widened at the small but visible device underneath the back wheel, which he immediately recognized as a tracker. So that's how they were doing it. An exasperated 'tch' was the only response he gave it, prying it off and smashing it with the back of his heel.

With a growl and a higher level of irritation, Lovino continued on his way. Now, it wasn't like these men were hard to deal with. From what he could tell, they were amateurs who thought that this would be easy money. The real players were never so obvious, lurking in wait until the precise moment when they could launch an attack. But when it came to a Gold Hit, anything was possible.

Lovino had first learned about hits from the other kids that were part of his homeschool program. He and his brother had never gone to an actual school before, much like many of the other children in the same position. It was too open, too unprotected, too dangerous.

So in order to ensure preparation and safety for future generations, most of the children from families like the Vargases received private lessons. Whatever was trending in the criminal world was also popular among these kids, who met up every once in a while to foster social interaction and to keep peaceful negotiations between them.

Hits on many types of people and criminals were being placed all the time—the degree of the hit depending on the desire for the person's head. Most rested on the amount of money one wanted to put up for someone, mostly staying under the $10,000 range, also known as Bronze Hits. Silver Hits went up to $50,000, but they were nothing to sneer at. Many criminals hunted down hits for pure game, collecting hundreds of thousands of dollars without a hint of remorse or hesitation.

The most coveted was the Gold Hit, which was the most severe level of being wanted. Whoever placed the hit on you either really hated you or would gain in some way for your death. Lovino had heard that if you kidnapped the person or killed them, the person who placed the hit would pay you in heavy gold bars. That was where he assumed the naming system had probably begun. A Gold Hit didn't happen often, but when it did, frenzy ensued in the underworld—low-level and high-profile thugs alike getting dollar signs in their eyes.

And it just _had_ to have been that one. This was why he hated people. He changed his name, moved away, and, yet, his past was still trying to drag him back? Tightening his hold on the steering wheel, Lovino gritted his teeth together.

Those damn bastards—he wouldn't let them win. He was going to live and protect the things he cared about. When his partner's smiling face appeared in his mind, he couldn't say that he didn't belong there.

~x~

"…And then I went to the store and this nice old lady needed help getting a box off the top shelf, so I reached up to grab it. But then I knocked down a couple boxes and… ah, Lovi?"

The duo sat at a booth near the back of the café that Antonio had invited Lovino to. The café was a cute, little place that gave off the feeling of an old-fashioned diner, with its pink-and-black checkered floors, neon signs, and apron-uniforms. Lovino, who had been attentively looking left and right since they had sat down at the table, snapped his focus back to Antonio.

"Uh, yeah?" A chuckle came from Antonio, although there was a slight awkwardness to it.

"I don't mean to pry, but if you want to talk about whatever's bothering you, I'm all ears."

Lovino blinked, slightly taken aback by the Spaniard's words. The way he approached the Italian was completely different from his other times, when he directly asked him to tell him whatever the issue was. Had Lovino really been that obvious? Ever since yesterday, he had been on high alert, making sure to watch out for any suspicious activity. So far everything was ok, but by doing so he had let Antonio catch on.

As the waiter delivered their food they had ordered and refilled their drinks, Lovino poked at his food with a fork.

"It's not really something that you can help with, so don't worry about it for now, ok?"

He appreciated the concern, but what could he tell him? The only right thing he could do right then was to keep him out of his troubles.

The man across from him nodded slowly before a sly smile grew on his lips. Before Lovino knew it, the brunette had swiftly snatched one of the fries from Lovino's plate. A shocked expression spread over the Italian's face, who watched the thieving man pop the fry in his mouth.

"Hey! You bastard! What the hell? You have fries. That was mine!"

Antonio feigned a look of innocence, only boiling Lovino's blood even more.

"I wanted to try some of the regular fries. They're delicioso!"

"Oh yeah?" Lovino reached over the table and grabbed a small handful of Antonio's sweet potato fries, putting them all into his own mouth, "Howf douu youf liuhk thwat, bawsterd?"

A startled look took over Antonio's face before he broke out in a fit of laughter. Lovino harshly swallowed down the fries, a red hue coming into his cheeks when he realized the embarrassing act he had just done.

"You know what I just realized? It's a lot of fun to tease you. And you're really cute when you're embarrassed."

Even though he tried not to, Lovino's blush deepened. "W-what are you even saying? I'm a man, I fight criminals for a living—I'm not supposed to be cute!"

Antonio rested his head in his hand and smiled at Lovino, who was now violently stabbing the fries with his fork.

"I think you're cute all the time, Lovi." With a scoff, Lovino picked up a fry and tossed it at Antonio. It landed in his lap.

"Well, you're an idiot then."

With a challenging grin, Antonio picked up Lovino's fry that had fallen and put it in his mouth without a hint of reluctance. Lovino let out a sound of disgust, opting to go back to eating instead of commenting on the Spaniard's behavior.

A couple more fry wars and one annoyed waiter later, Antonio went to pay for the bill at the front counter. Lovino waited at their booth—his absentminded gaze drawn towards the window. As he looked outside at the neighboring buildings, his eyes caught sight of something strange. It was something shiny—the sun reflecting off its surface like a bright ray of light. It differed from the normal window reflection in that it was much brighter but also smaller. When Lovino caught sight of a movement in the window above the shining light, a sudden realization hit him. He had seen that position, that stance, that metal before.

It was a sniper.

Standing up quickly, Lovino slid out of the booth. Antonio was headed towards him with the tip—a happy look on his face.

"Ah, ready to go, Lovi?"

Lovino abruptly grabbed Antonio's shoulder, pulling him in the opposite direction of the front exit. His partner looked at him confusingly, his head switching from looking at Lovino to looking to the front of the cafe.

"Aren't we heading…?" he began, but Lovino ignored him.

They headed towards the back of the building, Lovino looking for other exits and Antonio just as confused as he was before. Latching onto Antonio's shirt, the Italian pulled him through the doors of the kitchen. The cook looked up at them with a perplexed expression on his face. Lovino didn't give him a chance to question them.

"Where's your back door?" The puzzled man pointed to the right to what looked like a second room. Lovino thanked him and headed in that direction with Antonio closely behind him. Kicking open the back door, he looked both directions before determining it was clear. Since parking was in the back of the building, they wouldn't need to go to the front. Lovino sighed in relief just as Antonio grew more concerned.

"Lovi, what's going on? What's wrong?"

He pulled the Spaniard towards the man's older car, stopping in front of it. Their serious eyes met in a deadlock.

"Nothing's wrong. Just go home. If you notice anything suspicious, call me."

"But, Lovi—" Antonio began, but Lovino was already walking away to his own car. He didn't move from that spot, even as Lovino looked back at him with an expression he couldn't identify.

Lovino slid into the driver's seat of his car and sat there for a moment. He needed to do something. Handling this on a daily basis seemed nearly impossible, especially when others were involved. Luckily, he had noticed the sniper before he had a chance to shoot him or Antonio. But if he hadn't…

He shivered. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Lovino thought about his options. He could let this continue until he was dead, or he could get more information and confront the problem head on. Lovino had exhausted Gilbert as a resource, and even then the albino bastard didn't know that much. He needed someone who was more involved with more connections, someone like—

There was a pause. Lovino scowled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. He didn't want to, but it looked like he had no other choice. If he wanted to stay alive and keep his new life from unraveling, he would have to do this. As Lovino left the parking lot, his mind immediately knew where to go without even having to think about it.

Lovino would go to the place he hadn't returned to in four years—his childhood home.

~x~

Night had fallen by the time Lovino arrived at his destination. The area around Lovino's old house was quiet, the surrounding walls and guards enough to keep trouble makers away. Pulling his car up to the front gate, Lovino pressed the little buzzer on the intercom. A voice came from the box.

"What business do you have with the Vargas residence?"

"Tell the bastard old man that his grandson is here to speak with him."

The box fell quiet. Well, Lovino wasn't surprised. The last time they had heard his voice was when he was giving his goodbye curses four years back. "Mr. Romano Vargas...?"

Lovino rolled down his car window and leaned out of it, scowling at the security camera hidden in the corner. "Obviously, now let me in before I break down this fucking gate."

A sigh was heard from the box. "Still with that vulgar mouth of yours, I see... Of course, sir. I will let him know you are here."

There was a loud buzz as the gate swung open on its own, opening up for the Italian to get through. He drove his car around to the back of the property, parking in the spot he had used all throughout his teenage years. As he exited the car and headed towards to entrance, a man in black greeted him.

"It's good to have you back, Mr. Vargas."

Lovino thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. "I'm only visiting. I'll be gone before you know it."

The man trailed after him as they navigated down the hallways, his memory providing the direct way to his grandfather's study. Through the library and a turn to the left, Lovino came to the room which the old man was always working in even in his youth. Opening the door, the man in black announced Lovino's arrival.

"Mr. Vargas, Romano is here to see you."

There in front of the burning fireplace stood a fit man with his back turned to the two men. Even though he was getting older, his grandfather had the same great physique he had when Lovino had last saw him. As he turned to look at his grandson, Lovino found that he really hadn't changed at all. It seemed like time really hadn't touched him. The happy smile that appeared on his face made Lovino twitch in irritation and pain.

"Romano."

He dug his nails into his skin, using every ounce of willpower not to snap at him. He couldn't do that. He was here for information. He had to play nice. For now.

"Nonno."

Roma Vargas, who Lovino and Feli called Nonno, was the mogul of the whole Vargas operations—the pillar and inspiration of every person working for his family. His affable personality made it hard to hate him, even if he was the leader of one of the biggest criminal rings in the United States. But he was a fair man at heart, and never treated those who followed him harshly without reason.

That was the life of the great Vargases—one of the leading criminal mafia families in America.

Nonno walked away from the fireplace and wrapped his arms around the startled Italian. Lovino couldn't bring himself to return the hug, opting to curse at him instead.

"Ok, ok. You're squeezing me to death, you bastard!" Nonno still had his youthful laugh as he let his grandson go.

"I see you haven't changed, m'boy. It's been—what—ten, fifteen years?"

"It's been only four," Lovino sighed, crossing his arms, "You're getting old."

"Nonsense! I'm as fit as ever!" Roma flexed his muscles to demonstrate his point, "But it really feels like it's been longer. We missed that shitty attitude of yours around here. You know, you could have at least stopped by to say hi to your dear old grandfather."

Lovino leaned on the side of the chair by the fireplace, looking up at his grandfather's pouting face. "That would have been kind of impossible, Nonno."

Flinging his hands around as if he could disperse the idea of the impossible, Nonno walked over to his desk. He picked up the red wine from the bucket of ice, pouring two glasses. "Ah, yes, how was Italy? Did you meet many fine Italian women?"

He turned back towards Lovino, holding out of the glasses of red liquid. Lovino accepted it without a second thought and swooshed it around in his hand. He was always appreciative to have expensive Italian wine when he could get it.

"Italy was as beautiful as ever. And the bellas were as well."

Suddenly, a coy smile found its way onto the older man's face as Lovino sipped his drink. "Oh? Did you find yourself a girl? Tell your good ol' Nonno all about it!"

In an effort to keep Nonno out of his business, Lovino had told the man before he left home that he was going to study abroad in Italy. It had worked, and Nonno had never bothered to investigate Lovino's whereabouts. He was able to successfully strip 'Romano Vargas' from any records and become 'Lovino Vargas', free of his association with his infamous family. But even though he had destroyed any evidence linking the two people to each other, someone had discovered that connection and now neither of his identities was safe.

His signature scowl made its way onto Lovino's face as he placed his empty glass down on a nearby table. "Nonno, I'm not here to talk about my damn love life. I need to talk to you about something more serious."

Nonno waved his hands around, stopping the young auburn-haired man from speaking. "Not another word, Romano. I know what you're going to say."

Lovino blinked in surprise. "You do?"

"I do. And I'm glad you came to me," He casually wrapped his arm around Lovino's shoulder, much to his chagrin, "I was planning to contact you sooner, but I feel like you're now at the right age to start preparing for the job."

"But how did you—wait, what the hell are you talking about?" Pulling himself out of his grandfather's strong hold, Lovino shot him a skeptical look. Nonno's expression turned serious.

"Taking over my place as the head of our family, of course! One day I'll reach that age when I can no longer lead our members, and you need to be ready."

Lovino ran a hand through his hair and signed in exasperation. "Ah, Nonno, not this again. I told you I'm not interested in taking over our damn mafia family."

"But that was four years ago! I figured if I let you get out and experience the world a little you'll…" Nonno's voice trailed off, Lovino's anger levels rising by the second.

"I'll what? Come back with my tail between my legs? Well let me tell you, I've been doing fucking just fine out there by myself, thank you."

"Romano, this is your duty to your family. You're going to have to accept it eventually. Why not now?"

"Duty? Don't you _dare_ talk to me about duty when you—" Lovino stopped himself, slightly shocked by what he was about to say. He didn't come here for this. Gold Hit or not, Lovino had to get out of there.

"You know what? Fuck this. I'm leaving."

Lovino stormed past his grandfather, slamming open the door of his study. He was furious. He knew somewhere deep down it would end like this. As he entered the library, his grandfather followed him.

"Romano—" Nonno began, but didn't finish when they came to a stop in front of an out-of-breath man. Looking up at them, the man straightened up to appear more professional his employer.

"Ah, I apologize for interrupting you, sirs, but there is an emergency."

Nonno stepped forward, his voice taking on a serious edge. "An emergency? What happened?"

"A man was found trying to sneak past the gate. We have detained him."

The people after the money for the hit flashed through Lovino's mind. Fuck, they must have followed him. But why would they try to get through their family gates? Everyone knew that the Vargas estate was heavily guarded.

Lovino scoffed, attracting the attention of both the messenger and his grandfather.

"What kind of idiot would think that he could get through mafia security?"

A few long pathways and several unlocked doors later, Lovino twitched as he and Nonno laid their eyes on the intruder. The man's arms were held back by two well-built men with muscles that seemed larger than Lovino's whole body. His face was pointed downwards, his curly brown locks covering his face. Even if he didn't look up, Lovino knew who it was in a heartbeat. That _fucking_ idiot.

"Antonio?" Lovino spoke before he could stop himself. The Spaniard's head shot up—his green eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"Lovi!" Before he could answer or possibly smack his partner for his mistake, Nonno took a step towards Antonio.

"'Lovi?'" An eyebrow arched on the man's worn face, "You know Romano?"

Antonio held a look of confusion as he kept looking back and forth between Nonno and his partner.

"'Romano?'" he said aloud, a questioning tone in his voice as he looked at Lovino.

By this point, Lovino was having a mini-meltdown in his mind. Not only was Nonno in jeopardy of discovering his new life, but Antonio was in danger of discovering his old one. This was bad, _really_ bad. Lovino needed to act. And _fast_.

With a loud scoff, Lovino walked towards the two men, separating them as he did so.

"I told you not to call me that, bastard! Nonno, it's ok. Let him go."

Nonno scrunched up his eyes in a look of perplexity. "Who is this man, Romano?"

"He's my…"

Oh god, what was he supposed to say? Partner? Friend? Distant Cousin? Roommate?

"—boyfriend."

Well, shit.

Both men stared at Lovino in shock. He blushed at his own bold statement. What the hell? Why had _that_ come out of his mouth? A frown on his lips, Nonno stood up a little taller.

"Boyfriend? Him?"

The two Italians turned to look at Antonio, who was still processing what Lovino had said. _God dammit, bastard. Say something!_

Lovino mentally cheered when Antonio shook away his haze and smiled.

"Yes, I am his boyfriend. I'd shake your hand, but it seems like my arms are occupied at the moment."

Nonno let out a hearty laugh at the Spaniard's words and, without further hesitation, waved the two muscle men away. Antonio's arms were freed a second later. Holding out a hand to the Spaniard, Nonno grinned at him.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Romano's grandfather, Roma Vargas."

Antonio's eyes momentarily widened in surprise before he quickly recovered and took the man's hand in a firm grip. "It's nice to meet you as well, sir."

Lovino silently watched his grandfather and his 'boyfriend' chat, utterly horrified to see them actually _getting along_. Oh god, how had this situation gotten so out of hand? Luckily, Antonio had gotten the hint to play along, but he would have to explain to him everything after this was over. That was, if he loudmouth grandfather didn't do it for him. Who know how Antonio was even going to react.

Suddenly Nonno turned to Lovino, snapping him out of his daze.

"Romano, you didn't tell me you had such a charming lover! I'm proud of you, m'boy!"

A hard slap on the back came from his grandfather, urging Lovino to move closer to Antonio.

"Yeah, uh, he's great. So, we should really go now—"

"Nonsense! I would like to chat with the both of you some more. Let's go to the dining room and have some wine, shall we?" Lovino was going to decline, but Antonio spoke up first.

"That would be wonderful, Mr. Vargas!"

Lovino shot the oblivious man a look. Now he really wanted to slap him. What the hell did he think he was doing?

As they made their way through the large house towards the dining room, Lovino expected Antonio to question him—to do something to reveal his true feelings.

But Antonio was strangely quiet. He didn't whisper to Lovino, comment on something stupid, or walk around with that silly smile on his face. Lovino hated to admit it, but he missed it.

The group of men passed by many of the rooms Lovino had remembered growing up in—memories he had long since forgotten resurfacing. On the left was the music room, which Lovino and Feliciano had used to sing and play the piano as children. The dust collecting on the surface of the musical instruments and windows made it appear like the room hadn't been used in years. A nostalgic feeling washed over Lovino just as the room disappeared from view, his vision blocked by a dark wall of nothingness.

He quickly looked to the right, catching a glimpse of the old TV room he, Feli, and their grandfather used to watch silly movies and such. It looked like his grandfather had gotten new upgrades with the television set, the sofas, and the tables. He never would have been able to tell that it was the same room if he didn't know any better.

They finally came to a stop at a large dining area with a long, hand-carved wooden table in the middle, surrounded by several matching chairs. Nonno motioned for the duo to sit down across from him as two butlers came to fill their wine glasses.

Nonno held up his glass over the table. "To good health and happiness."

Lovino and Antonio followed suit, clinking their glasses together in a traditional toast. Taking a long sip, Nonno let out a satisfied breath.

"Ah, there's nothing like Italian wine. This one was cultivated from a small orchard in Sicily. I'm very pleased with it."

As the rich wine left a pleasant taste in his mouth, Lovino agreed. It seemed Antonio took a liking to it as well with the repeated sips he was taking.

"This is the best wine i've ever tasted! Magnifico!"

Lovino's grandfather smiled. "You have good taste, Antonio. Now i'm quite curious, but where are you from?"

"The heart of Spain, in Madrid."

"Spain? Well that explains your accent," Nonno chuckled, running his fingers along the white table cloth, "Were you on the study abroad program as well? Is that where you met Romano then?"

Lovino quickly chimed in before Antonio could answer. "I met him in Spain, actually. I went traveling on my Spring Break, and, after my car broke down, he ended up giving me a ride."

A light jab under the table urged Antonio to speak as well. "Ah, si! I helped him on one of the country streets of my city. Romano and I hit it off right away."

Lovino flinched at the foreign name on his partner's tongue. It was his real name, so why did it sound so wrong? Nonno didn't seem to notice.

"Is that so? That's quite thoughtful of you. My grandson is quite the lucky man!" Suddenly Nonno's light-hearted expression turned serious, "Now, please tell me: what are you doing here? Didn't Romano warn you? You know it's quite foolish for a young man to sneak into mafia territory, yes?"

Shit, he hadn't thought of a response to that yet. And if Antonio didn't figure out by now that he was from the mafia, he did now. Antonio, however, seemed prepared.

"I'm not too familiar with the customs of Americans or Italians. My hometown in Spain is a small community that never had to deal with much crime, so there was never a need for security. I always forget that things aren't the same everywhere else." Antonio laughed in an honest way, making both Italians' shoulders relax a little.

"So I assume you were coming to check up on Romano?" The Spaniard nodded, looking over at Lovino with a genuine smile.

"Of course. I'm always worried about him."

A tinge of red colored Lovino's cheeks. The thing was, Lovino didn't feel like he was actually lying. Antonio had always been a very truthful person, even when the situation permitted him to lie. He said what he felt, explained himself, and no one could ever dislike him for it. He had even covered for Lovino with no explanations. He was the true brave one here.

 _Wow_ , Lovino thought _, I really am a lucky guy._

With a sudden burst of inspiration, Lovino turned to face his grandfather.

"Nonno, I came here to consult you about something."

Taken aback by the unwavering resolution in his grandson's eyes, Nonno softly smiled.

"What do you need, m'boy?" Lovino breathed out, figuring he should get straight to the point.

"There's been a Gold Hit placed on me."

Nonno nearly spit out his drink as he eyed the two across the table.

"Romano, are you serious?"

A sigh came from the younger Italian, "Unfortunately. It's not like it's that big of a deal. I just don't want the people that are after me interfering with my personal life. What can I do to make them back off?"

"Like hell it's not a big deal! Who has the audacity to go after a Vargas? Lorenzo!" A man appeared from the shadows, his expression the epitome of perfect professionalism.

"What is your request, sir?"

"Please find out whatever you can about whoever placed the Gold Hit on my grandson. And prepare a group of men to guard him." Lovino leaned across the table.

"Nonno, you don't need to do that! I can handle it myself, I just need to know what i'm dealing with." A strange, ominous aura developed around Nonno—Lovino glimpsing the darker side of his grandfather that he had rarely seen even as a child.

"You're dealing with the whole criminal underworld, m'boy. Whoever wants your blood desires to make a show out of it and wants every criminal out there to know about it. This is no laughing matter. It's like a disease; if you don't stop the infection now, the virus will take over and eventually overcome you. And then you'll be dead."

Lovino was quiet for a moment. Nonno had had many years of experience throughout his work as a mafia boss, and, putting aside his personal beef with him, he knew that what he was saying was correct.

"All right," He conceded, "but make sure they only do it on the days and times I request." He still had his second life to protect, after all. Nonno's mean guarding him 24/7 was completely out of the question. Nonno wore a triumphant grin.

"You have my word. Now, Antonio, would you like me to issue you some guards as well?"

Antonio, who had been silent since Lovino had announced the hit, snapped up.

"Huh? Oh, no. That's not necessary at all. They're not after me, anyway." There was a slight shake of Nonno's head.

"They may not be after you, but they'll be after anything that Romano cares about."

Getting an urge to leave, Lovino grasped Antonio's shoulder as he stood up.

"I think we'll take our leave now."

"Of course." Nonno agreed, standing up as well, "Let me walk you both to the door."

The three of them walked through the house to the front door, Nonno holding it open as they walked out onto the porch. Lovino turned around.

"Keep me updated on the hit, Nonno."

A fatherly smile was displayed on his grandfather's face. "I will. Try stay out of trouble, Romano." Lovino rolled his eyes.

"It's not like I go looking for it. Buona Notte."

"Buona Notte. Take care of Romano for me, Antonio."

The Spaniard nodded, although his smile seemed a little weaker than before. With that, Nonno closed the door, leaving the two partners alone.

There was a long silence as they began walking down the stone steps of small courtyard that was in front of the Vargas estate. Lovino anxiously watched Antonio's broad back, waiting for something—anything to break the thick atmosphere and let him know what Antonio was thinking. Anger, sadness, and pain he could handle, but silence made him feel like understanding his thoughts was like he was trying to find the exit of a maze blindfolded. He wanted this dark feeling in his chest gone.

"Well, say something, bastard." He egged, slightly surprised to hear a shakiness in his voice. Was he nervous? When Antonio still didn't turn around, Lovino's anger only grew. Stepping down the pathway a little faster to get closer, Lovino opened his mouth again.

"Talk to me, yell at me, I don't care. Just say _something_." An edge of desperation was in his tone. It seemed to irk something in Antonio, because the brunette stopped a second later.

Slowly facing him, "What do you want me to tell you, Lovi? Honestly, I don't even know what to think."

There was a chilling coldness in his eyes he had only seen directed at enemies and people who tried to hurt Lovino. Seeing them suddenly directed at him made his heart lurch out in pain.

"I…" Suddenly he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. He didn't need to, however, since it seemed he had more to say.

"I came here because I thought you figured out who was after you and went to confront them. I was worried you'd get in trouble or hurt! And then I get caught by your mafia family and find out that your name isn't even Lovino. Oh, and the whole criminal underworld is after you! I just…" Antonio trailed off, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

He looked at the quiet Lovino once more; this time, Lovino could see hidden behind the coldness the hurt and confusion swimming in his eyes.

"Why did you lie to me? To everyone? Just…what are you thinking?"

Lovino had fought many skilled enemies, taken down notorious criminals, and been put in life or death situations. This, however, was significantly harder than fighting any enemy. A physical battle could be handled with fists and guns, leaving one winner and one loser. But this was completely different. This fight involved mental pain and uncontrolled emotions, with each side retaining internal damage. And Lovino was definitely feeling it.

"I had to." He said in a small voice, but a second later, he was looking up with a hurt look in his eyes.

"I had to!" he repeated and took a step forward, "After my brother disappeared, everything went to shit. He was the Vargas favorite, so once he was gone, everyone found it hard to even look at me since we looked so much alike. You know what that was like? Having to deal with your parents abandoning you, your brother vanishing, and your 'family' rejecting you? It's fucking hell.

"So I left and started my own life. I changed my name, destroyed my files, and threw my grandfather off my tracks by telling him I was out of the country. I became a detective so I could find out with my own power what happened to my brother, whether he's alive somewhere or dead. I've had enough time to come to terms with it, but god dammit _, I just need to know_."

"Lovi…" Antonio expression had softened—his anger completely gone. Walking forward, he stopped in front of his partner. A painful look took over Lovino's face.

"But you know who fucking did it? You know who was behind it all along?" Lovino pointed back to the house, " _Him_. Our own grandfather. I saw him do it too—I saw him take him away that night, but I just couldn't believe it. How could I? But the next day my little brother was gone and I never saw him again. I can _never_ forgive my grandfather for that."

By now, Lovino's breathing had elevated. Finally. It was the first time he had ever told anyone the whole story, the first time he had gotten everything off his chest. Somehow. Lovino felt liberated.

He raised his eyes to look up into Antonio's green ones.

"There. That's why I lied. Are you happy now? So, if you can't deal with that then please, disappear from my life like everyone else—"

Lovino's words were cut off when he felt soft lips against his and the brushing of eyelashes against his skin. It took a moment for his hazy brain to understand that _Antonio was kissing him_ _and damn, why did it feel good_?

Before he could stop himself, he melted into his hold and pressed his lips back to return the kiss. Antonio wrapped his hand around Lovino's back, the other threading its way into his soft hair. The need for air came too quickly, forcing them to break apart.

"I won't disappear," Antonio murmured against Lovino's lips, before pulling Lovino into an embrace, "I promise."

And for some reason, Lovino believed him. His mind was still too foggy to question what had just happened as Lovino slowly wrapped his arms around the Spaniard and returned the hug. They stayed like that for a few more seconds before they broke apart.

It seemed like a dream as they walked back to their cars and exchanged normal goodbyes. It was only as he drove home and ghosted his fingertips over his lips that it hit Lovino like a train.

Whether he liked it or not, he was probably falling in love with Antonio.

Well, _fuck_.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Just to let you know, I will be on vacation next week and won't have access to the internet, so the next update will probably be on Saturday.**

 **Thank you for reading & reviewing! :) Stay tuned! **


	9. Chapter 9

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 9**_

* * *

There was a perfectly good reason why Lovino was currently camped out in the restroom right now. And it most certainly didn't have to do with Antonio.

...ok, that was a lie.

Lovino was a fighter. If he had a problem, he chose to confront it head on instead of waiting around. He was impatient and hot-headed, and knew exactly where he was going and what he wanted. He didn't run from anything.

Expect maybe, his feelings.

His emotions were reasonably easy to handle; if he was feeling angry, he'd channel that aggression into shooting or hand-to-hand combat. If he was feeling depressed or disappointed, he'd immerse himself in a book or watch a movie. Unwanted emotions and thoughts could easily be suppressed, which he had trained himself to do often. Indeed, Lovino had a solution for every emotion down to an art.

Being in love, however, was an entirely different thing to deal with.

Long ago, Lovino had written off love as that fictitious thing you read about in novels and fairy tales, but never actually happened in real life. For the people that attempted to pursue 'love' blindly, he always labeled those people as foolish and naive. He never could understand how someone could be so swept up in infatuation and adoration that they'd completely give themselves to another person. It never made sense to him.

As he noted his current situation, he chuckled in irony. It was just his luck that God would want to give him a taste that which he had scorned. Sitting on one of the covered toilet seats in his office, Lovino hunched over and sighed into his hands.

Lovino had never been in love before. Even as a teenager, dating always seemed pointless and distracting to him. Love only got in the way of your goals and ambitions. It numbed the mind, scrambling your thoughts into a substance-less soup. Why waste your time with something as fleeting as love when you could use your time more wisely? Lovino had always lived by that philosophy.

Antonio, somehow, was different. He was a happy, carefree person who seemed free of normal constraints. Judging and shunning others were things never associated with the Spaniard, who treated everyone he met with an equally friendly attitude. Lovino would never admit it out loud, but he found that really admirable. He was a good—no, great man whom Lovino found himself unconsciously drawn to. Even though he wanted to deny it, Lovino felt mesmerized by those enchanting emerald eyes and charmed by that beautiful smile. Antonio accepted him as he was, but also made him want to be a better person.

So when it finally dawned on him that Antonio meant something a lot more than just his work partner and a close friend, it came as quite a shock to the Italian. How did he let this happen? When had he let Antonio get so close? Thoughts of pushing him away and pulling him closer constantly battled in his head, leaving his mind emotionally exhausted. Lovino groaned. Yes, love sucked.

But somewhere along the way, he knew that he had already accepted the inevitable. It was like the kiss from the previous night had sealed his fate, blowing back all the layers of suppression to reveal what he had known all along. He was falling for the idiotic tomato bastard and he would just have to deal with it.

So why was he hiding in a bathroom stall, avoiding Antonio like the plague?

Well, to put it simply, the fact that he had realistic romantic feelings for someone scared the shit out of him. Suddenly those stupid actions and uncontrolled feelings he had ridiculed for years were coming back to bite him in the ass. Why did that bastard have to go kiss him and make him aware of his feelings? He didn't want to be in love, dammit! He could have very well pretended not to be for much longer, thank you.

However, his biggest issue wasn't fear. Fear could be overcome, and Lovino was all about snuffing fear in the face and doing as he wished. Lovino could complain about his feelings all he wanted, but that didn't change the fact that he still cared about Antonio. He would never want to do anything that would hurt him or diminish that shining aura he had. Which was where the real trouble came in.

Lovino was the grandson of a respected and dangerous mafia organization that was constantly being challenged due to its reputation. Rivals and enemies could pop up at any moment, looking for anything that they could use against their opponent to weaken them. If they realized that Antonio was important to him, he would be an instant target. In addition, the current hit placed on Lovino only put Antonio's life in even more in danger. So if he wanted Antonio to stay safe and out of harm's way, he would have to keep his distance. No matter how much neither of them wanted it.

Exiting the stall and unlocking the door, Lovino scanned his surroundings before b-lining straight to his desk. He arrived there without interception, grabbing the files he had been working on and getting back to work.

Ugh, since when had avoiding someone become so difficult? It always seemed so simple before. Then again, this was Antonio he was talking about—and that bastard wasn't normal. First, he had the unlucky fortune of running into the bastard as soon as he walked through the building that morning. Antonio cast the Italian one of his widest smiles, making Lovino's heart skip a beat and chipping at his resolve. That damn heart was a traitor to his brain.

"Ah, good morning, Lovi!" he greeted as usual, no hint of their prior exchange in his thoughts. Lovino eyed him carefully, grasping the handle of his messenger bag and feeling the grooves of the strap.

"Morning, bastard."

"Ah, i'm heading out to my car to get something. Do you want to come with me?" There was an extra motive in the Spaniard's tone by the way he leaned next to Lovino's ear and whispered the last part. Lovino shivered, a piece of him enjoying the close contact and the other reminding him of their predicament. _The closer Antonio gets, the more in danger he'll be._

 _"_ I, uh, I need to finish some paperwork, so..."

Not expecting his lackluster reply, Antonio took a step back. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed off the awkwardness.

"Oh, really? But I, uh, actually wanted to talk to you alone about—"

Lovino walked past him, turning around, "I'm actually in a hurry so see you, bastard!" Before Antonio could even respond, Lovino was down the hall and out of sight. Lovino had noticed the man's dejected look as he turned and headed out the door. Biting his lip, he pushed away that guilty feeling welling up in his chest and went to get to work.

The Spaniard didn't make this any easier. It was like he was on a mission to get Lovino alone and speak with him. He had no idea what Antonio was going to tell him, whether it was an apology for kissing him as a joke or a declaration that he cared about Lovino as much as Lovino cared about him. Either way, he didn't want to find out. So when Antonio had gone looking for him again, he conveniently had to go scan some files, talk to the secretary, was on break, use the bathroom—the list went on. So that was how he spent most of his Monday, avoiding any chance for Antonio to corner him.

His most recent bathroom excuse had given him enough time for Antonio to get distracted and wrapped up with researching his files. But even Lovino knew that wouldn't hold Antonio off forever. He would eventually have to face Antonio and they would have to address this thing between them. Dammit, why wasn't anything ever easy?

"Lovino."

Pulled from his thoughts, Lovino looked up at Arthur, who was heading towards his office. With a nice, clean suit and black briefcase, the man had probably just come back from a meeting with an important executive or client.

"Yeah?" His boss gently smiled, the small wrinkles at the edges of his eyes and lips deepening.

"Come see me in my office in five." A nod from Lovino told Arthur he would be there, so the Brit continued on his way. Noting the time on the clock, Lovino would speak with Arthur and then be on his way home.

He packed his things quickly and, after making sure Antonio was preoccupied, made his way to his boss' office. He knocked on the door, hearing a low 'come in' from behind it before pushing it open.

"Chief?" Lovino inquired and prompted Arthur's attention. He closed the door, but not enough for it to shut.

"Ah, yes, Lovino. Take a seat. I wanted to update you on the current investigation into your case."

Lovino immediately sat in one of the chairs facing him—the eagerness making its way onto his face.

"What have you found?" The Brit got up and opened one of his cabinet drawers. Pulling out a small stack of papers, Arthur placed them on the desk where Lovino could see.

"On the bright side, murders have decreased in the last couple of days. I'm figuring the first or second week surge is over and now things are calming down at bit. That's not to say killings aren't happening. In fact, one death happened not too far from the station. If the culprit is indeed after you, there's a possibility they might find you soon."

 _Too late_ , Lovino thought. He sighed, which didn't go unnoticed by Arthur.

"Lovino, I know I haven't brought this up since it deals with your private life, but I want you to be completely honest with me. Do these murders have to do with your previous affiliations?"

Great. First Antonio, and now Arthur? Was this 'confess your secret criminal background' week?

"It's a possibility," he decided on saying. There was no use in denying it. "If you're looking for suspects, I might have an idea. In the criminal underworld, some damn bastard has placed a hit on me for a lot of money. Lots of criminals go after it and that's probably why they've gone after people who look like me."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, "Well, why didn't you mention that sooner? I don't want to know the specific details, but, bloody hell, who did you piss off?"

"I didn't piss off anyone!"—His boss shot him a look—"Well...no one more than usual. Not enough for someone to get the whole Chicago criminal population to go after me!"

Falling back into his office chair, Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. "Well you pissed _someone_ off. And a lot more deaths are going to happen until they finally get you."

"What do you suppose I do then?" He never asked for this. All he wanted was a peaceful, ass-kicking job shooting criminals separate from his old mafia heritage. Was that too much to ask for?

"You can't really do much, Lovino. You could try looking for the person who placed the hit, but if he's anonymous, you're out of luck. If worse comes to worse, you might have to be placed in the witness protection—"

"Hell, no!" Lovino cut in, "Chief, there's no need to go that far. I'm a detective for fuck's sake! If I can handle anything, it's looking after my own self."

Arthur eyed his stubbornly independent employee before linking is fingers and leaning forward on the desk. "We'll see how things progress, shall we? I recommend checking your connections and seeing if they can come up with any names. Maybe you can work something out."

A scoff came from the Italian. "Obviously you have had no experience with the mafia. Bad blood runs deep and grudges aren't so easily forgotten."

"I know people and criminals, of which the mafia is both. They're all still humans in the end. When you've been in this business as long as I have, you'll see a lot of surprising things in the most ordinary of places."

"I guess so..." Lovino partly understood what he was trying to say, but it was hard to think criminals who killed person after person with no remorse still had a conscience that could be reasoned with. After a while, you naturally became resistant to sympathizing with any kind of enemy. Criminals are still criminals, just as idiots are still idiots. Sensing Lovino's conflicting contemplation, Arthur decided to change the subject.

"Now, tell me, how are things with Antonio?"

Lovino snapped out of his thoughts as soon as the man's name had passed through his boss' lips. "Antonio? Things are, uh... fine."

A smirk played on his boss' lips. "Just 'fine'? They looked a little more than 'fine' this morning. In fact, things have been looking rather comfy the last few weeks."

Lovino's mouth was gaping like a fish. How did Arthur know? Had they really been that obvious? Dammit, how did they appear so close when Lovino hadn't noticed at all?

"Well, uh—that was—umm..."

Arthur shook his head, a knowing smile staring Lovino in the face. "No need to explain. I'm happy for you two, just keep the PDA at a professional level at work."

A stubborn blush spread across his flushed face. He knew his boss was just teasing him, but he wasn't used to this. Whenever he was frustrated or embarrassed by something, he found his best solution to be: deny, deny, deny. Abruptly he stood, surprising Arthur just as much as himself.

"Why the hell would I like Antonio? I don't feel anything for that bastard!"

He knew that was probably the biggest lie that he had ever told in his life. It felt so wrong to say those words when he knew his heart was saying something differently.

Arthur was surprised by his outburst, probably at a loss on how to respond. Wow, not only had he just yelled that at his boss, but he had yelled it about his partner, whom he was also in love with.

Well, this was some messed up shit.

The embarrassment dawning on him, Lovino turned on his heel and headed towards the exit. God, he was a mess. Why was trying to keep his distance from Antonio such a hard thing to do? He had to get out of there. Swinging the door open, Lovino stepped out of the door—

—only to run face-to-face with a wide-eyed Antonio.

Lovino jumped back, obviously not expecting to see his partner standing there. Why was he in front of Arthur's door? Was he coming to talk to Arthur, or Lovino again? Wait... had he just heard Lovino loud declaration? By the broken look on the man's beautiful face, Lovino had pretty good idea what the answer was. Fuck...he had left to door open, didn't he?

"Antonio? Ah... what are you doing here?"

Antonio tried to seem unaffected. "Uh, hi, L-Lovi! I, uh, I just wanted to...uh, never mind. See you tomorrow."

Ah, there it was. Disappointment, pain, and sadness all mixed up to make the expression that Lovino had never wanted to see. Antonio had been hurt. And not by a criminal, family member, or co-worker, but by Lovino himself. It was ironic that Lovino had hurt the one he loved the most when he had only been trying to protect him. Suddenly he felt sick, like someone had punched him in the gut and then made him ride a roller coaster a couple times.

He watched as Antonio turned and walked away, heading towards the exit without looking back. He held back the strong urge to reach out and grab the back of his white shirt, to pull him against him and tell him it wasn't true. That he did have feelings for him and wanted to be with him.

But he couldn't. Antonio wouldn't be safe with a person like him, who might always be in danger due to his past and present. His partner deserved a peaceful and happy life with someone else. This was good. That way he didn't have to tell him later. Wasn't this for the better?

"If you love him that much, then why are you letting him go?"

He looked back at Arthur, who had not moved from his seat but was casting serious eyes at Lovino. Stepping back inside of his office, Lovino tried to seem calm.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur sighed, grabbing something from his drawer and leaning over the desk to hold it out to Lovino.

"Here." Lovino moved forward and took the item, only to find that what he had in his hands was a regular tissue. Arthur noticed Lovino's lost look and clarified, "You're crying."

Now it wasn't funny for his boss to make jokes when Lovino was clearly dealing with something. Lovino didn't cry. He didn't cry when the members of his mafia family treated him like dirt, or when he got shot in the shoulder and still had to continue the mission. He faced knife stabs and brutal beatings, but he never cracked once. Those bastards were never worth crying for, anyway.

Lovino was about to chew Arthur out when he felt something wet slide down his cheek. What the hell was that? Touching it, he was shocked to find his eyes and face covered in quiet, streaming tears. He wiped them away frantically, but somehow they kept on coming.

"W-what? Why am I...this doesn't make any damn sense." he said aloud, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands in an attempt to make them disappear. It wasn't working.

What the hell was he doing? Did Antonio mean so much that he would make him cry? How ridiculous... he should have been able to let him go. Yet, why was it so hard to do? Why didn't he want to? When had Lovino become so vulnerable?

Arthur watched the confused Italian in silence, who clearly had no idea how powerful something like love could be. He knew from experience.

"Lovino, are you in love with Antonio?"

Halting his hands and lowering them from his face, Lovino looked at his superior. Arthur's expression was devoid of judgment or curiosity; he only seemed to want Lovino's honest answer. He had decided to keep his distance from Antonio, but now he wasn't so sure he wanted that. Not if it meant hurting him. He wanted Antonio to smile like the idiot that he was and fight with him about who loved tomatoes the most.

"I am." Lovino blinked, as if admitting it out loud was a whole other level of realization, "Fuck, I really am."

A polite smile fell upon the Brit's face. "So why don't you tell him?"

Lovino wiped his tears with the tissue as his lips curved downwards into a solemn frown.

"I can't. He's only going to get hurt if he's with me." Something flashed in his boss' eyes, perhaps arousing distant memories from long ago.

"Lovino, I want to remind you that Antonio is a cop just like you with all the proper training he needs to protect innocent people and himself. If he couldn't handle something as simple as a few criminals after him or his partner, he wouldn't have lasted in this job as long as he has. Give Antonio a little more credit."

His expression turned more serious, "Most importantly, you can't let fear keep you from having your own happiness. One little drawback shouldn't hold you back from getting what you desire and deserve. If you love Antonio and want to be with him, then tell him instead of making both of you suffer."

Lovino felt stunned by Arthur's speech—every word hitting him directly in his heart.

"I, uh, I have to go." he said suddenly, a burst of determination flowing through his veins. Arthur smiled at him, clearly pleased to see Lovino taking his advice.

"Please." Lovino spun around, rushing towards the exit.

Before he left, however, he paused at the door and spoke, "Oh yeah, I've been wondering: if you knew about me having a mafia background, why did you hire me?"

"You think i'd let one little detail prevent me from getting a damn good detective on my team?" Arthur smirked, confirming Lovino's suspicions. An appreciative smile found its way on Lovino's face.

"Thanks, Chief." And he really meant it.

"Just don't screw this up. I don't want to go looking for a new partner for you just yet. Now get going before I kick your emotional arse out."

Lovino mock saluted him before heading out of the room. Rushing back to his seat, he grabbed his bag and went directly to his car. There was no sign of Antonio's vehicle in the parking lot, so he assumed he had already headed home. He started up his car and got on the road, using his memory to make his way back to Antonio's apartment.

A freeway ride and several streets down, Lovino arrived in front of the six-level apartment complex. There was no light in the building since the sun still hadn't set yet, but Lovino knew it would be dark soon and the lights would begin to come on. He noticed Antonio's car in the private parking lot, which told him that Antonio was already there and inside his apartment.

Not wasting another moment, Lovino jumped out of his car and rushed up the four flights of stairs. He came to a stop in front of Antonio's apartment door and stood there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. He could do this. His fist connected with the hard wood as he pounded on the door.

"Hey! Bastard, open up!" Lovino waited for a second, listening to see if he could hear any movement on the inside. When he heard nothing, he started knocking again. "Come on! Open this damn door before I break it down!"

Nothing happened. The hallway was completely silent. Lovino tried one last time, "Antonio?"

Damn this bastard. Why wasn't he opening up? His car was clearly in the parking lot, so he had to be inside his apartment. As Lovino planned his next course of action, he heard his ringtone go off in his pocket. A peak at the caller ID revealed that it was Antonio calling him. Lovino scowled. What was his damn partner trying to pull?

Answering the phone, "Hey bastard, why the hell aren't you—"

A chilling laugh in his ear made the words freeze on his lips. Antonio could be a weird and capricious bastard at times, but Lovino knew one thing for sure.

That was definitely _not_ Antonio.

 _"You know, your boyfriend is quite handsome. I almost don't want to cut his pretty little face."_

His strange, thick accent really pissed Lovino off. His fingers clenched around his phone, his mind _this close_ to crushing the piece of technology.

"What the fuck have you done with Antonio?" he growled at the man. Leaving Antonio's doorstep, Lovino rushed down all four flights of stairs to his car. Who did this fucker thing he was, taking _his_ partner and thinking he could get away with it?

 _"Very little, at the moment. There's no fun in hurting him if the guest of honor isn't there to witness it."_

 _Don't show your anger,_ Lovino thought _, It's what he wants._ Sitting in his car, Lovino stopped for a moment and cooled his head. The danger he had tried to prevent had happened anyway, and now he had to go get him out of it. If he just stayed focused, he could fix this. Pressing an extra button on his phone, he pressed the phone back to his ear.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, he spoke in a deeper, controlled tone.

"Where is he?" he said through clenched teeth. The man with the accent feigned surprise.

 _"Oh? Do you want your boyfriend back? You know, that's not very fair. We need something in return._ "

Tired of this little game they were playing, Lovino got straight to the point. "Then take me. Aren't I who you really want?"

 _"You're quite right. That's a proper exchange then. Won't you come to us then, Romano?"_ He no longer felt fazed by the man's taunting tone which tried to provoke him into a fit of rage.

"I will, but neither you nor your men are allowed to touch one single strand of hair on his head. Is that clear?"

The man hummed _. "Crystal. Come to storage house #29 on the left most side of the city. There we will meet."_

"Fine." Lovino hung up.

Staring at the screen, he navigated his way through his phone to his call history and pressed a blue button under Antonio's name. A map instantly popped on the screen, a tiny blue dot marking a point on it. The phone pinpointed Antonio's phone location to be a few streets over from the storage house, in a nearby abandoned warehouse. Lovino knew tracking him would be worth checking his honesty. The man probably thought he could ambush Lovino and capture both of them instead of letting them go. That sneaky bastard. He wasn't that naive.

Putting the car into drive, Lovino headed in the direction of the warehouse. His fiery eyes had taken on a new level of deadliness—a sharp look that would make even the toughest criminal flinch. This was his battle, and dragging Antonio into it was a mistake. Oh, they would pay.

Time to show them just who they were fucking messing with.

~x~

"Hey."

The man standing guard at the entrance to the warehouse looked at the approaching man. The newcomer wore a disinterested expression; he had obviously been doing this for years. "I'm here to take over your shift."

A groan of relief came from the guard, who stood up and let the man take his spot. "About time."

The exchange was routine and ordinary, but neither man noticed the dark silhouette moving through the shadows, slipping into the warehouse without a hint of detection.

Prying open the piece of metal and hefting himself up through the air vent, Lovino silently let out a groan as he felt his muscles stretch in discomfort. He steadied himself in the metal compartment and pulled a flashlight out of his back pocket. Putting it in his mouth, he lit the path in front of him as he began his journey into the tunnel.

Lovino tried to ignore how small the area was and not think about how the walls were closing in on him. It was a hard thing to do, ignoring your phobia. But this was the least conspicuous way of getting into the warehouse and getting out. He had to do this for Antonio.

The palms of his shaking hands banged against the thin metal as he crawled his way down the pathway. He lightened up his pressure, reducing the noise to slight thuds. Using his phone to track the location of Antonio's phone, Lovino took several turns before coming to an area of the vent that peered outside through a metal-like net.

Turning off his flashlight and peeking out the small holes, Lovino noted two men standing around with guns. Their backs were turned towards him, so he was safe to continue down the vent and head in the direction of Antonio's phone.

He embraced the soft breeze that washed over him as he passed the visible area and ignored how the metal holes left marks in his skin. He was about to clear the area when his ears caught words from the men's conversation that piqued his interest. As he pressed his ear to the metal frame, their voices became louder and clearer.

"...I mean, how hard is it to find one guy? It's been weeks!"

"Don't you know anything about the mafia world? This is a fucking Vargas that we're talking about. It's no walk in the park, that's for sure."

"Well, at least we finally got the right Romano Vargas. Remember that one guy we were after just outside the city? He looked just like him!"

"Oh yeah, too bad we didn't catch him. Damn wimp was being protected by that blonde traitor."

"Heh, pissed me off too. Good thing he wasn't part of us. Boss would have his head."

What the hell were they talking about? Something told him he should listen longer, but a distant groan and yell attracted his attention. Even from this far, he could recognize those cries. _Antonio_.

He quietly continued on his path, following the sounds of pain and multiple voices. Just to make sure, he checked his phone and found that he was heading exactly to where Antonio's phone was. The voices grew louder as he came closer, only a room over from where Antonio was probably being held. He noticed another metal frame up ahead that looked directly into the room, giving Lovino the perfect vantage point to see what was happening. Slowly inching his way over to it, Lovino peered down at the scene below him.

The first thing he noticed was a bound Antonio in the middle of the room. His back was strapped to the chair, his feet and wrists tied together with rope. Surrounding him were five rough men, all equipped with weapons and staring at him with spiteful looks. One of them stepped forward and punched Antonio right across the face.

Lovino bit his lip to hold back a growl. His anger gave him enough brutal strength for his fingernails to dig into the thin floor of the vent, leaving marks in the metal.

The tattooed man sneered at a struck Antonio, whose cheek was darkening into a purplish hue.

"I'm going to ask again: where is Romano Vargas?"

Lovino recognized his accented voice as the one on the phone. Antonio raised his rebellious eyes to the men, his mouth sealed shut. The man scowled. Rubbing his head, he looked at him again.

"Just tell us where your little friend is, and we'll let you go. Yeah?"

"I refuse." Antonio responded immediately with unwavering eyes. Snickers echoed through the room as the men stood up and moved towards the defenseless man.

One man struck Antonio directly in the stomach, eliciting a painful groan from his mouth. The thugs seemed pleased by his cries of pain. Another grabbed onto Antonio's curly chocolate locks and tugged harshly, making him wince out in pain. As the man held up Antonio's head, another came and punched Antonio again on the other side.

Lovino's heart wrenched in pain as he watched Antonio cry out and moan with every blow. Why the hell was the bastard covering for him when his life was in danger? That stupid idiot.

He had to get him out of there, but how? Antonio was tied up and there were five armed men in the way of reaching him. He couldn't just pop in there and start shooting, No; it was too risky.

A sudden idea popped into his head. Crawling backwards, Lovino arrived at the neighboring room and looked for a way out. He found an easy enough hatch to pry open. Perfect.

This might just work.

~x~

Antonio was a mess. The men had really done a number on him with two bruised cheeks, one busted lip, one black eye, and probably some broken ribs. He hoped not; he really hated going hospitals. His body hurt all over, but that wasn't a big surprise. These men wanted blood after all.

He should have seen them coming. He should have noticed the ominous feeling he got when he entered his apartment or the strange, tense behavior his cat was exhibiting. There were a lot of signs, but he ignored him. All he wanted to do after the horrible day at work was go collapse onto his bed and mope.

His mind was filled with thoughts of Lovino. He was fascinated by the Italian's emotional strength and his talent for getting out of sticky situations. The man's smart mouth and off-standish attitude also drew Antonio in like a child to a candy store—always eager to have more. He was enchanted by Lovino: the interesting and intelligent man who was 100% himself and proud of it. He seemed to hide behind a veil of distance and mystery, making it hard for the Spaniard to pin him down. It was like he couldn't keep his curiosity in check; he had to know more about him otherwise he'd go crazy. He yearned for that rare yet exotic smile and for those golden eyes to be focused on him. Lovino was truly a man beautiful inside and out.

On the night Antonio found out about his partner's past, he would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. He had been shocked and hurt that the Italian had kept so much from him, even if he knew it wasn't really his business. Somehow Lovino had become an important part of his life, and to learn that he wasn't an important part of Lovino's was like stabbing him in the heart. But after learning all that Lovino had experienced when he was younger, how could he tell anyone anyway?

He felt like a horrible partner and friend for pushing Lovino to tell him his rough story when the man didn't feel comfortable with doing so. And when his Lovino started spouting nonsense like leaving him because of how he was, he just lost it.

So, he had kissed him. Maybe he shouldn't have, maybe he should have asked Lovino how he felt first. But damn, it just felt so _right_ to hold him in his arms and tell him he won't ever go, no matter what he said or did.

And Lovino had kissed back! He knew he had, because when Lovino moved his lips against Antonio's, he felt his heart soar and his mind go numb with ecstasy. He had never been so happy in his life.

But Lovino's evasive attitude that morning threw him off. He couldn't even get him alone to talk things over; as soon as Antonio was heading his way, the Italian made a run for it. It hurt him every time, but he remained optimistic. That was part of who he was.

So when he was going to see if he could catch Lovino on the way out of work, he had accidentally overheard Lovino's conversation with Arthur. Well, if Lovino not telling him about his past was a stab in the heart, then this was ripping his heart into a million little pieces and letting them flutter away with the wind. He had rode home the whole way with a depressed look on his face, and then was ambushed and kidnapped soon after.

And there he was now, getting his exterior beat up to match how torn up he was on the inside. They wanted Lovino, and obviously were using him as bait to lure him there. These, however, weren't just petty thugs. From what he had gathered, this was a rival mafia gang set on snatching the Vargas heir and getting the hit money. It would kill two birds with one stone. Lovino would be safe as long as he stayed away.

The five thugs hounded him for information about Lovino and demanded to know his whereabouts, but no matter what, Antonio would not tell them. They could hit him, cut him, bring him to his knees—he still would remain silent. Antonio was strong that way. He would never give up a friend or lover for his own safety, especially Lovino.

He would protect him to the very end.

The tattooed guy snickered, holding up a sharp knife with jagged edges. His expression was furious, but his smile was maniacal.

"Ok, i'm getting really tired of your shit. Tell me you little fucker: where is Romano Vargas?"

He leaned over and moved closer, his hand steadily holding the knife to his throat. Antonio swallowed, but didn't flinch as he stared the man in the eyes.

"Right here."

An additional voice spoke from the shadows, attracting the attention of all the thugs and Antonio. All eyes were on the newcomer as he stepped out of the darkness and into the light of the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. With hands casually hanging in his pockets and a scowl on his face, Lovino stood at the edge of the room.

Recognizing Lovino and lowering his knife for a second, the tattooed man stood up. The tip of the sharp knife faced Lovino.

"Romano Vargas. You ditched us at the storage house. That wasn't very nice, you know. You left us waiting."

Lovino showed no emotion as he leaned his back against the wall. Even as deadly weapons were all facing him, the Italian didn't seem fazed in the least. "I'm not that stupid. But actually, I wanted applaud you."

Now all the thugs in the room were thrown off and confused. In an attempt to make him explain, one of the men stepped forward, holding the gun a little steadier.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Lovino smirked and pulled out his a switchblade knife from his jacket pocket.

"You don't know how annoyed I've been with this bastard. I've been waiting for the right opportunity to take him out, and—look—you've done it for me."

The five thugs certainly weren't expecting to hear that. They stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. As Lovino leaned up off the wall, the men all went on guard and pointed their weapons at him.

"Stay right there!"

Lovino ignored their warning, moving towards the tied Spaniard. Only their guns followed Lovino, their dangerous heads pointed directly at the Italian. One wrong move and he was dead.

He arrived in front of a just befuddled Antonio, and looked down at his partner unsympathetically. The man with the accent looked to his men.

"Don't listen to him! He's playing you. Don't let—" A loud smack silenced the room, leaving everyone in momentary shock. Antonio felt the slight sting on his cheeks, which only hurt more in combination with the bruised area.

One look from the Italian sent shivers down all of their spines. Hatred and animosity burned in his pupils as the thugs stared at him in fear. If there was any doubt that they were the presence of a high class mafia member, it was certainly gone now.

Lovino began to circle Antonio like a predator, hungry for its next meal. The men took a step back as he directed that dangerous gaze towards them.

"If you help me dispose of him properly, the Vargas family might just have a place for all of you."

Now that caught their attention. The wheels in the thugs' brains began turning, weighing their tempting new proposal. The Vargases were the highest on the mafia social ladder. A job with them provided you protection and benefits like no other. Their current gig was good, but this was also probably the only chance they would ever have at moving up. This was the boss' son himself, and he looked pretty fucking serious.

Sharing mutual glances, the tattooed man, who was probably the head of the group, smirked.

"Sounds good to us. How can we assist you?" Lovino walked over to them, switchblade knife still in his hands.

"I need something bigger. This little thing is useless." Lovino threw down his pocket knife and held out his hand, "Someone hand me a gun."

One of the men stepped forward, placing a nice, sleek pistol in his open hand. Lovino looked it over and nodded. Turning back around, Lovino faced his silent partner.

"Give us some space, boys," he said over his shoulders, the men immediately complying. He directed his attention back on Antonio. A few feet away, Lovino raised the tip of the gun to point directly at the Spaniard's forehead. His cold eyes met Antonio's for a moment, the two men exchanging a look none of the men could decipher.

"Ciao, bastard." The room was quiet for a moment—almost too quiet as the men held their breath in anticipation.

And then all hell broke loose.

Spinning around as fast as he could, Lovino pulled from his back pocket a second gun and pointed both of his weapons at the unsuspecting men. Before they could even react, he had shot two of them. The hit men slid off the tables they had been leaning against, falling to the floor with blood running down their bodies. He adjusted his aim, hitting the next two targets who were pushed back from the force of the bullet hitting their chests.

The tattooed man was the last target, who had had enough time to cock his gun and direct it at an occupied Lovino. His shot was misdirected, however, when Antonio jumped up from his chair and dived for the switchblade knife on the floor. Antonio threw the weapon, the blade hitting him squarely in the heart. The man cried out in pain, muttering a few curses before sliding down the wall and leaving a trail of blood.

Silence reigned again once Lovino and Antonio were the last ones standing. Lovino waited until the smoke from his own gun had dissipated before putting it back in its place and dropped the borrowed gun to rest with its owner. Antonio finished cutting the last two ropes on his ankles with a nearby knife, moving his feet around to get the blood flowing again.

Lovino finally looked back at his partner, an indistinguishable expression on his face. He began to walk towards Antonio, whose eyes never left Lovino's approaching figure. Either Lovino was going to yell or hit him again, neither of which he was looking forward to. Antonio opened his mouth to speak, but he never got a word out.

Threading his hand into Antonio's chocolate curls, Lovino pulled the surprised man's head down and pressed their lips together. Antonio got over his shock rather quickly, tilting his head and wrapping his arms around Lovino's waist to keep both them steady. There was a slight ache in his bottom lip, but no pain could stop him from kissing the wonderful man in his hold. Their kiss was rushed and slightly tainted by the taste of blood, but it couldn't have been more perfect.

Their breath was ragged as they pulled their lips away, Lovino adjusting himself to wrap his arms around Antonio.

Mumbling into his blood-stained shirt, "Don't you ever scare me like that again, bastard."

Antonio only smiled, holding him closer.

"I'd never dream of it, mi querido."

Their moment of intimacy was interrupted, however, by the sound of voices heading in their direction. Taking Antonio's hand, Lovino pulled the Spaniard to the next room.

"Come on, I can get us out of here."

"Lead the way then." Antonio agreed, tightening his grip.

They stopped right under the air vent, Lovino turning to Antonio and pointing up. "It's not going to be easy, but we have to get up there."

Antonio's fingers lightly fluttered over his wounds. With a sigh, Antonio looked up again, "Ah, great."

~x~

"Hold still! Urgh, come on, will you just, ah, stop—stop moving, bastard!"

Antonio hissed through his clenched teeth as Lovino smothered ointment onto the long, thin gash that ran along his back and hip area. It wasn't a serious wound, but it definitely needed to be treated. His overall condition from the kidnapping and beating had been fair—the only evidence was the bruised skin on his face, his busted swollen lips, and the bloody cut in his side.

Lovino had insisted once they had escaped from the warehouse that the Spaniard come to his apartment and be treated before his wounds could get any worse. He had experience with patching his own self up after particular rough fights, so he already had all the necessary items.

Pulling out the rolled up white bandage from his first aid kit, Lovino gave him a stern look.

"Lift your arms and keep them up." Antonio followed his directions like a loyal puppy, silently watching as the Italian wrapped his wound with the bandage. Lovino's brows were furrowed, while the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in a look that mirrored concentration. Apparently his lips had unconsciously curved into a suspicious smile, because Lovino gave him an irritated look.

"What's so funny?" Antonio shook his head, but the smile still didn't disappear.

"Nothing."

"That damn smug smile of yours says differently." Tearing off the end of the bandage with his teeth, Lovino hooked and secured it to the wrapped tissue. Antonio lowered his arms and looked at him.

"Oh, well, I was just thinking about how good of a show you put on back there. I mean, I was convinced you were actually going to kill me."

Lovino stood up and snickered as he headed to the kitchen area. A moment later, he came back with an ice pack.

"Don't be ridiculous, bastard. I wouldn't try to kill anyone _that_ dramatically."

Covering it with a thin towel, Lovino pressed the cold pack to Antonio's welling bruises. Antonio flinched a little, but soon enough his skin got used to the cold sensation.

"Aw, Lovi, are you saying you could still take care of me, mafia style?" Lovino smirked, moving the ice to the next bruise. Piercing cold attacked Antonio again.

"Maybe, if you got on my bad side." Antonio laughed it off casually, but, just to be safe, he would keep that advice in mind.

"Ok, ok. But, you know, I had the situation under control."

Lovino scoffed. "The hell you did."

A comforting quiet fell over the duo as Lovino took his time treating each wound. Every time Antonio groaned or hissed, Lovino felt guiltier and guiltier. Using that time to think over everything that had happened, the Italian spoke just above a whisper.

"About everything that's happened, I just wanted to say... i'm sorry."

Antonio's eyes widened in surprise at the Italian's apology.

"Why are you apologizing, Lovinito? You've done nothing wrong." Lovino gazed off, his eyes darting anywhere but Antonio's.

"I have. I said a lot of things I didn't mean and did a lot of shitty things. Allowing you to get caught up in my mess, letting you get hurt, and then hurting you myself—I'm not proud of that." It took Antonio a moment to realize that Lovino was referring to everything that had happened that day. Raising his tan hand, Antonio cupped the man' downturned face and directed his eyes up to his own.

"Hey, hey," he sent him an encouraging smile, "People do a lot of things they don't plan to do. It's just part of figuring things out. Besides, those were my choices. I chose to get involved with you. You couldn't have predicted that they'd kidnap me, or beat me up. And you're the one that saved me, so I should be thanking you!"

Antonio looked at Lovino, who had momentarily forgotten that there was an ice pack in his hands. Taking the ice pack from his hold and placing it on the counter next to them, he gave him his most serious look. "And I don't regret any of the choices i've made. Especially with you."

Lovino blushed very much like a tomato. In an attempt to hide his embarrassment, he crossed his arms with a huff.

"Well, aren't you one sappy fool."

"Yeah," Antonio leaned forward, stealing a quick kiss from the Italian. "I know."

Shooting his hand over his mouth, Lovino recoiled. "What the hell, bastard? You can't just steal kisses whenever you please!"

His nonchalant shrug earned him a glare from the auburn-haired man.

"Why? You stole one from me." Lovino growled through shut teeth, but didn't say anything. Antonio did have a point.

"That was because you stole one from me last night! It's called revenge." He countered, proud of his improvised comeback. Antonio only smirked, lowering himself on his elbows to look at the Italian crouching on the ground.

"By all means, feel free to enact your vengeance on me again. Like you did with the fry incident." Glaring at him, Lovino sighed.

"Please don't remind me."

Antonio cocked his head to the side and smiled. "It was cute."

"Not it wasn't. Now shut up before I make you."

"You can't—" Antonio challenged for fun, but Lovino's mouth upon his once again was even more so.

Lovino slowly lifted himself off the floor and wrapped his arms around his neck. Antonio pulled him into his lap, his thumb massaging Lovino's soft cheek as the kiss continued. Antonio was going to deepen the kiss, but a slight nick of teeth against his bottom lip opened his healing wound, sending a wave of pain through the Spaniard.

"Ah," he winced, using all his will-power to pull himself back from the half-lidded, tempting man in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Lovino said in a rather husky tone. This totally wasn't helping.

"Nothing, just my lip's bleeding again."

Lovino blinked away his haze, a growl on his lips.

"Damn it." Lovino leaned down, one arm still wrapped around Antonio. Pulling out a disinfectant wipe, Lovino turned back to Antonio. "Hold still."

Antonio flinched as Lovino lightly dabbed his torn lip, the medicine stinging his wound. "Oww."

"Stop being such a baby and suck it up," Lovino chuckled when Antonio pouted, pursing his lips out for Lovino to treat.

There was a pause in their conversation before Antonio spoke up.

"Hey, Lovi?" Lovino hummed, urging Antonio to continue.

"I know we haven't really talked about it, but I was thinking we should maybe talk about us."

There was a lull in Lovino's hand movements as he arched his eyebrow and stared at Antonio. A moment later, he resumed his treatment.

"What about, 'us'?"

Antonio tried to explain.

"Well I mean, we've kissed and there's obviously something—" Lovino waved his hands.

"No, I meant what 'us'? You haven't even asked me out yet, bastard."

The Spaniard's mouth formed into a little 'O' as he stared for a while at Lovino's exasperated expression.

"If you're just going to sit there like an idiot, then—"

Before he could say another word, Antonio covered Lovino's mouth with his large hand, earning him a sharp glare from the Italian.

"Lovi, would you go out with me?"

Rolling his eyes, Lovino removed the hand from his face.

"About time you asked," he muttered. When Antonio didn't seem to get it, Lovino touched his soft hair and added, "Yes, i'll go out with you."

Antonio broke into a huge smile, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. "Really?"

"Don't act so surprised."

"I'm not," Antonio argued with a grin.

"Yes, you are."

"Ok, maybe a lit—ah, my lip!"

"Damn it! Stop smiling then, bastard!"

"I cant!"

"I am _not_ patching you up again."

"Aw, but Lovi—"

Ah, it was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing! :) Stay tuned!**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 10**_

* * *

Maybe Lovino was naive for thinking no one would notice his and Antonio's new status as "boyfriends." Hell, if his own boss knew that there was something going on between them, other people had to get the same idea as well eventually. But Lovino had high hopes in his co-workers, and faith that they would stay out of his private life. Needless to say, his track record with humanity wasn't all that great.

He bet it was those damn gossiping women who started it.

It all began with that Danish idiot and his silent Norwegian partner. Lovino had been standing by the coffee machine, minding his own business, when those nosy bastards had come sniffing around. Well, mostly Mathias, since Lukas only trailed behind and never spoke unless it was to berate the Dane for something stupid he had done. Lovino knew, however, that Lukas secretly enjoyed torturing the Italian. It was wise not to forget that it was a dog-eat-dog world in the detective world.

"Mornin' Loviiiinooo!"

Lovino groaned, knowing he wouldn't be able to get out of talking to them until his coffee had finished brewing. He hated forced situations like this. Maybe they would go away if he wished it hard enough.

"Good morning, Mathias. Lukas."

The Nordic duo wore expressions of surprise. Well, as much the dead-fish Norwegian could exhibit. Mathias had enough for both of them. "Woah! He didn't snap at us! I guess the rumors must be true then!"

Just what he needed to start off his morning: some idiots trying to get on his last nerve. Tapping his foot impatiently, Lovino watched as his coffee began to dispense into his mug. _Finally_.

"Are you trying to fucking piss me off?"

"Andddd—he's back." Lovino cast an annoyed glance at Mathias, who stared back at him with comical eyes. The man's outrageous hair flopped back and forth like a loose spring as he moved back-and-forth, leaving Lovino to wonder how much product it took to make it stand like that. Actually, strike that—he didn't really want to know.

"What the hell do you bastards want?" Because they obviously were up to something, otherwise they wouldn't have engaged the Italian. They knew how Lovino could get when he was in a bad mood and usually were wise enough to stay a safe distance away aside from the once in a while remark and tease.

Lovino couldn't really remember how their rivalry had started. He supposed it began after he had been introduced to the blonde duo, well into his first year working at the station. On the professional ladder, they were considered at the top, receiving the most important and interesting cases. But once Lovino had displayed potential well beyond a normal detective, Arthur began to entrust him with cases that would have normally gone to his best duo. Despite shifting partners and his crude attitude, Lovino had always delivered and excelled, quickly dethroning the long-time ruling detectives. Guess they didn't take all that kindly to falling behind their junior.

"Nothing, really. We were just wondering if it's true." Lukas' quiet but straight answer squashed some of the flames his idiotic partner had fueled. Hell, if Lukas did all the talking and Mathias kept his mouth shut, maybe they would stop getting themselves in sticky situations. Grasping the cup handle firmly in his hand and holding it up to his lips, Lovino arched an eyebrow.

"What's true?"

Lovino took a thirsty sip of his mug. Ah, there was nothing like coffee in the morning. As the delicious drink poured down his throat, Mathias blurted out, "Is it true that you're goin' with Antonio?!"

The moment that the question registered in his brain, Lovino spit out his drink—right onto the two men in front of him. The Nordic duo stood frozen in shock, their shirts and faces drenched in the brown liquid. A second later, Mathias's eyes widened in panic, his hands frantically running over his hair. Lukas' expression, however, remained unaffected.

Lovino wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"The fuck?! Who told you that?"

Mathias and Lukas, who were busy cleaning themselves off with the nearby paper towels, shot dirty looks at Lovino that exemplified their displeasure.

"Sheesh, Lovino. Watch where you're aiming!" Mathias sighed, a rare gloominess coming into his bright blue eyes, "It's a rumor. We only heard about it. Now, look what you're done to my hair! This took me an hour to do this morning!"

Lovino rolled his eyes at the man's ridiculous obsession. "You should watch what you're saying, bastard! You don't just drop something like that on someone who's drinking coffee!"

What the hell? How had someone found out about his and Antonio's relationship? They had only just started dating a week ago, and he doubted Arthur would blab about two of his employees' personal lives. After Lovino had patched up Antonio, the two of them had decided to keep their relationship low-profile. Not only were they both men, but they were partners and co-workers. Who knew how their other co-workers would take it.

Well, that had been the plan, until these two idiots ambushed him. Lovino tried to wrap his brain around how they found out, but he wasn't having much luck.

"So is it true, then?"

Lovino met Lukas' unemotional eyes—a twinkle of curiosity sparkling in them. A glance at his taller blonde partner revealed the same eager sparkle. Was everyone in this office a fucking gossipmonger? Taking another sip of coffee and actually swallowing it this time, Lovino glared at them.

"None of your damn business." With that, Lovino walked out of the break room and into the hallway, leaving the Nordic duo with their mouths hanging open.

Ok, two people trying to stick their noses into his love life was nothing to get worked up over. They probably overheard someone mention something about them being close partners, which they then interpreted as a close, romantic relationship.

Well, it wasn't like they were wrong. He just didn't want them to make a fucking show out of it.

But when Michelle stopped him in the hallway and furtively shifted her head both ways to make sure no one was watching them, he knew that his co-workers weren't going to make this easy.

"Lovino...You and Antonio—Are you together?"

A groan erupted from the exasperated Italian, "God damn it. What do you people want from me?"

Michelle smiled, her dark pigtails falling over her face. Pulling him towards the copy machine, the girl placed a few papers on the scanner and pressed the begin button.

"Nothing. A little birdie told me that you and Antonio have the hots for each other. I mean I had my suspicions, but, once I heard that, I just had to know if it was true."

"You all are too damn nosy. Worry about your own private lives before—" Lovino blinked, his eyes narrowing at the girl, "Wait, what 'suspicions'?"

"Well, of course. I could practically cut the sexual tension with a knife. It's so cute how you both check each other out when no one's looking." Michelle giggled.

This was news to Lovino, who wanted nothing more than to shrivel up and die at that moment. Michelle noticed his choked expression, and quickly tried to clarify.

"I mean, I don't blame you! It's not like you're looking at each other's butts or anything! Wait...you guys did that too..."—Lovino shot her a sharp glare—"You know what, i'm just going to stop talking now."

"Wise choice," Lovino advised, turning his body to face her, "Now, I have actual work to do, so i'm leaving."

Before she could rope him in again, Lovino took off down the hall—successfully escaping the clutches of more gossipers and fan girls. Really? Did these people have anything better to do than talk about theirs and others lives? Well, half the people were stuck in the office all day. A juicy story was all they needed stay energized.

Arriving at his cubical, Lovino fell into his office chair, which spun him around to his desk. Pulling out one of his current case files, he read over its contents and turned to his computer.

He was able to squeeze in an hour of research before he was interrupted once again—this time by someone he didn't expect. The blonde man looked like an angry giant, and could be easily mistaken for one by the sour, glaring expression on his face. Despite his mean look, Berwald was one of the stations top investigators, valued for his in-depth research and information tactics. All he had to was look at a suspect or witness and they'd be confessing what they knew, begging at his feet for the man not to hurt them. Lovino found it hilarious when Berwald had gotten his first assistant—a cheerful, short guy with a Finnish accent who literally had a panic attack the first time he came face-to-face with the Swedish man. It took some time, but he warmed up to his boss eventually.

Berwald glared down at Lovino over the counter of his desk, his back bent a little and eyes squinted as he peaked over his thick, prescription glasses so he could see the Italian better. Lovino had never been bothered by Berwald's bothersome stare like other people. Glares were commonplace in the mafia—the most intimidating provided the most respect and power. Really, why would he ever be affected by Berwald's when his own was the real deal?

"L'vino, Here's th' case y'u want'd."

Holding the beige file out to him, Lovino looked over his notes and what he had gathered.

"This looks great. Thanks."

When Berwald didn't leave right away, Lovino paused his movements—his eyes glancing at the man inquisitively. "Do you need something else?"

The Swede's brows furrowed together as he gave his head a terse shake. Bringing his intense stare up to Lovino, the man looked a little bit uncomfortable.

"No. I w's just go'n to say…Congr'tulat'ns."

With that last word, Berwald took off down the hallway. Lovino blinked. Congratulations? For what? Was that...was that a slight blush in Berwald's face? Why? He…He didn't mean—

Ah, _hell_ no.

Lovino stood up, his face burning red with anger. Come on, even Berwald knew about him and Antonio? What the hell was this? Did everyone know? Maybe he should just announce it to the whole office and get this over with.

A familiar laugh reached his ears, alerting his attention. Giving a rough push to his chair, Lovino followed the voice. He marched passed the cubicles and arrived at the row of file cabinets where Antonio was chatting with another employee. His mind automatically registered those little crinkles at the edges of Antonio's eyes that he got from smiling too much, and how his heart fluttered when those emerald orbs caught sight of him. No, his resolution wouldn't waver—he had to get to the bottom of this.

"Ah, Lovi! I was just going to—"

Approaching an oblivious Antonio, Lovino seized him by the collar and dragged him down the hall and around a corner. Antonio staggered in Lovino's hold, his feet trying to keep up with the quick Italian. Lovino stopped them and turned to the confused Spaniard. His fingers fisted in his shirt and tightened their hold as he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Tell me why," Lovino stared him in the eye, "Everyone in our fucking office knows about us!"

Antonio only gave him a blank expression, cocking his head in a confused manner. "What are you talking about? Everyone knows about us?"

Lovino growled, "Yes, god damn it! Everyone's been harassing me all day trying to make me admit that we're in a relationship! Did you tell anyone?"

The cloudiness in Antonio's eyes cleared up. Antonio stepping forward, Lovino unclenched the man's shirt as he placed his hands on his shoulders.

"What? Lovi, I didn't tell anyone! We promised, remember?"

Lovino's eyes couldn't meet Antonio's. They had promised. And Antonio would never break a promise to him. Guilt nudged its way into Lovino's mind for taking his frustration out on Antonio.

"Yeah... I know. Sorry," the Italian readjusted Antonio's crumpled collar, smoothing it out with his hands. For a moment, he lingered his fingertips on Antonio's clothed chest, "I just want know who the fuck did."

"So I _was_ right! Sweet!"

What the hell? Lovino and Antonio turned to the blonde man standing a few feet away from them, a triumphant smirk on his face. Lovino let go of Antonio and turned to Arthur's overly-conceited boyfriend.

"Alfred?"

Alfred grinned, placing his hands on his waist. "I'm so telling everyone the official news! Hah, and Artie wouldn't tell me anything. But _I_ knew. In your face, Iggy!" Taking a step forward and clenching his fists, Lovino growled.

"What the hell, bastard? It was _you_?! You don't even work here!"

The blonde shrugged, waving round his hands. "Eh, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Besides, now Feliks owes me fifty bucks! This is great, dudes!"

A twitch formed in Lovino's brow while Antonio clamped onto his arms and held him back.

"You bet money on whether we got to together or not? What the fuck?"

"No," Alfred proclaimed, holding up three fingers, "I bet that you'd get together _before_ three months. Feliks bet for after."

Lovino raised his fist, urging to connect it with the American's idiotic face, when he saw an ominous aura behind the man that froze the Italian in his tracks. When no reaction came, Alfred turned around to see what the duo was staring at, and nearly jumped out of his skin.

There stood a very angry Arthur with his arms crossed and his thick eyebrows knitted together to form an intimidating glare. Lovino may have been from mafia, but he wouldn't have been surprised to discover that Arthur had as well.

"You bloody idiot." He hissed through his teeth, closing in on his fearful boyfriend.

"A-artie! How's my favorite guy doing?" When Arthur didn't stop, Alfred added for good measure, "Have I told you how much I love you?"

Arthur was not amused.

"Save it. Now what the bloody hell are you doing? Go back to work!"

"Aww but I want to hang out with everyone—"

Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, Arthur sighed and gave the duo an apologetic smile.

"Sorry Lovino, Antonio. I take my eyes off him for a moment and he's already causing trouble." Arthur grabbed his boyfriend's ear as the man struggled against him, "Will you stay still for one bloody minute?"

"This is abuse! The Chief of Police abuses innocent heroes!" he cried, eliciting a sigh from Arthur.

"I _will_ hurt you if you don't behave, you git."

The duo watched the couple in front of them quarrel back and forth like an old married couple before they finally made their way to the front and Arthur kicked him out.

A long sigh came from Lovino as they walked back down the hallway, clearly not in the mood to deal with all of this. Damn American thinking he could broadcast and bet on his life. One more step out of line from him and he was going to give Alfred the black eye that he deserved. Noticing Lovino's exhaustion, Antonio suddenly turned to Lovino with a bright smile on his face.

"Ah, I forgot to tell you: my amigos are going to be in town tomorrow night! I really want you to meet them, so I was thinking we could go out for some drinks. How does that sound?"

Drinks _did_ sound good. He hadn't been to a bar since Antonio's greeting party, and a little alcohol in his system was just what he needed to forget his annoying co-workers. Lovino stilled for a moment before looking back at his boyfriend.

"Are these the same friends that you worked with before coming here?"

Antonio nodded as they arrived at their cubicles. Leaning against the wall, he absentmindedly played with a leaf on Lovino's plant, which had grown into a monster due to excess watering. It ran along the top of the wall and hung over four cubicles—not that Lovino's co-workers minded much. It provided good scenery.

"Yeah. Like I mentioned, they only come to Chicago every once in a while."

He has to admit, he was curious. These men had seen Antonio at his best and worst, and probably knew him like no other person did. In addition, Antonio wanted his best friends to meet _his_ boyfriend. It couldn't get more flattering than that.

"Ok, I'll meet them."

Straightening up, Antonio beamed, "Great! I'm so happy!"

His hands shot out, unconsciously reaching towards Lovino before he stopped himself. As Antonio let his arm fall back to his sides, Lovino noticed his hesitation. After all, they had agreed not to display their relationship at work.

But in the end, that hadn't really gone as planned, had it? Besides, why the hell should he care what others thought about him anyway?

Fuck it.

Rolling his eyes, Lovino pushed himself up and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. He ignored the cat call and dramatic gasp from two people passing by, only focusing on the Spaniard's goofy grin.

"They better not be as clueless as you."

"They're not! Francis is actually pretty smart and Gil is—" Realization dawned on Antonio, "Aw, come on! I'm not that clueless!" Lovino chuckled, inspecting his nails rather casually.

"Yes you are. And air-headed. And too carefree."

A pout was present on the brunette's face, causing a playful smirk to come onto the Italian's lips.

"I guess I like that about you, though."

Antonio's sparkling green eyes were upon him as his sappy smile returned. "You do?"

"Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be able to stand your ass."

"Aw, Lovi! I like you too!" Antonio proclaimed, lifting a hand to ruffle Lovino's auburn hair. Removing his hand, Lovino tried to hide his growing smile by turning back to his computer.

"I know, bastard. Now let's get back to work before we catch those idiots' gossiping disease."

~x~

The two of them arrived at the bar of choice on the other side of town around nine the next evening, after having a nice, peaceful dinner at a local restaurant.

It had been quiet, recently. Too quiet. Lovino had notice a peculiar drop in attacks since he and Antonio had officially gotten together. He had no idea why or for what reason. Maybe it was due to his grandfather's guards, or maybe he had scared those pursuing him away. The point was: Lovino wasn't really complaining.

Antonio walked ahead and held open the door for Lovino, who rolled his eyes at the gentlemanly gesture as he tried to hide his light blush.

The bar was rather large, with three crystal chandeliers in the middle of the room. Near the walls was an arrangement of dark leather booths, while the main floor held tall wooden tables with several stools around them. The bar, however, was the most interesting, since its countertops were embedded with actual crystals that sparkled like diamonds, drawing people in like flies to a light source.

A man sitting at the bar noticed their arrival and waved from across the room, prompting the duo to make their way towards him. As they came closer, Lovino took in the man's features. With long blond hair tied in a loose ponytail and blue eyes that complemented his deep white v-neck, the man at the bar was probably a tremendous flirt. His French accent only added to Lovino's conjectures.

"Well, well! It is good to see you, mon ami!"

Antonio and the Frenchman wrapped their arms around each other in a manly hug, Lovino spotting a wayward hand traveling down the Spaniard's back. Snatching it before it reached the bottom, the Italian glared at Antonio's smirking friend.

"Oh? Is this who you've been telling us about? Lovi, I presume?"

Lovino peeled the appendage off of Antonio and thrust it back towards the man, who repositioned his hands in his black pant pockets. Their eyes looked over each other's in a way that a person would size up another, though the Frenchman's gaze was much less appropriate. Antonio, who was still oblivious, had missed the entire exchange.

"Si! This is Lovi! Lovi, this is Francis."

In a dramatic gesture, the blonde placed his hand on his chest and bowed in a respectful manner.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lovi. I'm surprised; Antonio found himself a rather," Francis' eyes trailed over Lovino's lean body in an almost hungry way, " _attractive_ lover. I am so very proud of him."

Placing one hand on his hip, Lovino shot him a dark glare. "First off, don't call me that. Second of all, look at me again like I'm some fucking piece of meat and I'll make you wish you were never born. Capiche?"

Francis leaned back up, a stunned expression on his face before a curious smile replaced it. "Understood. Antonio wasn't kidding when he mentioned you were ill-tempered."

Antonio laughed awkwardly, pulling a growling Lovino back to stand with him.

"Now, now. Why don't we go get drinks, si?"

Lovino jerked himself away from Antonio's hold, glaring at the Frenchman before moving over to the bar and plopping down into one of the seats. Francis and Antonio followed, both sitting on each side of Lovino.

A groan came from Lovino's mouth as he tapped his foot under the counter. They were doing this on purpose, weren't they? Francis seemed to make it his mission to torment the Italian, and Antonio was too air-headed to notice. As Antonio switched between chatting with his flirtatious friend and brooding boyfriend (because Lovino certainly wasn't speaking to him), the three men ordered a round of drinks and waited for the bartender to whip them up.

Antonio turned to Francis, "Oh yeah, when is Gil going to get here?"

Francis shrugged, muttering a quick 'thank you' to the bartender as he received his drink. "He said he was on his way. He probably got stuck in traffic. Or got distracted by a mirror."

The Spaniard's sweet laugh filled the air. "Typical Gil! Did you also invite—"

He began, but was cut off by another, familiar voice.

"Bloody hell, you haven't changed at all."

The three of them looked up to see a surprised Arthur standing behind them. He wore dark pants, a white dress shirt, and a blazer—even in his free time living up to an image of professionalism and sharpness. Spotting Antonio and Lovino, the Brit greeted them with a nod.

Francis stood up, a large smile on his face as he opened his arms to him.

"Mon cher, you look absolutely ravishing! It has been years since I've been graced with your beauty." Sending Arthur a seductive smirk, "Perhaps we could—"

The Brit cut him off, pointing to his left. "Watch it. Alfred doesn't take too kindly to you, you know."

The trio looked to where Arthur was pointing and found Alfred sitting with his brother, Matthew, laughing and sipping their drinks with ease. Lovino, however, caught the American's sneaky glances in his boyfriend's direction. Francis pouted, running a hand through his hair.

"You're still with that American buffoon?" he said in disgust before grabbing Arthur's hand, "My dear Arthur, you need a real man in your life. Someone like myself."

Francis placed a chaste kiss on the man's hand, only to have it pulled away from his grip.

"Stop your pissing around." Arthur chided him, bringing his green eyes to meet the Frenchman's "And yes, I still am. Now I only came over to say hello since we haven't seen each other in a few years. It's good to know you're still the same as ever. I must return to my party now. Excuse me."

Before Francis could say another word, Arthur turned on his heel, making his way back to his boyfriend and Matthew. Francis stood there for a moment, a defeated expression on his face as he returned to his seat and took a long sip of his alcoholic drink.

Lovino leaned over to Antonio and whispered, "Ok, what the hell was that about?"

A long, tired sigh came from Antonio's mouth, one that Lovino had never heard before.

Whispering into Lovino's ear so Francis couldn't hear, "Ah, it's complicated. Francis and Arthur have known each other ever since they were kids. He's always been interested in Arthur and pursued him, but Francis has never been a serious person nor wanted to be tied down. Because of that, it was hard for Arthur to ever take him seriously, and he never believes him. Besides, he's is in a pretty serious relationship with Alfred. Francis doesn't have much luck." Antonio sighed again, "I just hate seeing him like this."

Lovino stared down at his reflection in his wine glass. He couldn't imagine what it's be like if he was in the same situation—to not be able to communicate his feelings clearly to Antonio and for Antonio to question his sincerity. Taking a glance at the bitter look on the Frenchman's face, Lovino had maybe misjudged him. He was friends with Antonio, after all.

"So how long have you known Antonio?" Lovino asked him, attracting the man's attention. The blue eyes of his blinked a few times, his mind trying to focus on what Lovino had said.

"Ah, since high school. Through the study abroad program."

Lovino nodded, sipping his wine. "I remember Antonio mentioning it. You guys started that investigation team together, right?"

A hearty laugh erupted from Francis. "Ah, those were the good old days. Did Toni ever mention our code names?"

Code names? Lovino eyed the man on the other side of him for an explanation, but Antonio was distracted ordering more drinks. Looking back at a cheerier, nostalgic Francis, Lovino shook his head.

"No. What were they?"

"Well," With a thoughtful smile, Francis stared down at his empty glass, tipping it and rolling its edge around like a child playing with a toy car. "Since we were all from different countries, I thought it was only appropriate to name ourselves after them."

Lovino paused for a moment before his mind finally wrapped around the implication of Francis' statement. The two men's attention was on him when he let out a loud, surprising laugh. "Wait, wait, wait… you're telling me that this guy"—Lovino grabbed Antonio's sleeve, pulling him forward—"Went by _Spain_? And you went by _France_?"

Letting his boyfriend go, Lovino felt tears sting his eyes, "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard!"

Antonio sulked, his bottom lip puckering into a pout.

"I didn't think it was stupid. It was clever! Right, Francis?"

Crossing his arms, Francis snorted. "Of course it was! We were amazing! The undefeatable Bad Touch Trio!"

Lovino felt another round of laughs coming on, "Oh god. You've got to be kidding me. Let me guess the third guy in your group: he was Switzerland? Poland? Germany?"

"Prussia! The awesome me was _Prussia_." A voice called at a distance from them.

Lovino froze at the sound of the man's voice, knowing very well just who this mysterious third member was. That obnoxious, rough voice was one drove him crazy and one he hated having to hear at mafia social events. Vaguely, a piece of his memory returned, reminding him that the man had gone to study abroad one year. There was no way. Despite all odds, how the hell was this possible? The only one who ever considered himself a Prussian was—

"Gilbert?" he uttered in surprise, stopping the man who had been making his way over in his tracks. With hands in his jacket pockets, the Prussian paused, scrunching his eyes together to get a better look at the man at the bar. His red eyes widened in shock as he recognized the familiar features of the Italian heir.

"Romano?! No fucking way!"

Oh, great. The shock of seeing the man had almost made him forget that this man was part of his past. The Beilschmidts—a well-respected assassins family—had been fairly close with the Vargases when Lovino and Feli were only children. Although they didn't meet all of the time, they were fairly friendly with Gilbert and his quiet brother, often playing silly games to pass the time. But after Feli disappeared, relations between the two families fell apart. It was only after Lovino had graduated and sought out Gilbert that they met again when they were older.

Not only did Gilbert have expertise as an assassin, but he also had extensive experience with changing identities. It was a hobby since he was a teenager, he had said, and Lovino figured he would be the perfect person to aid him in transitioning from Romano Vargas, the mafia heir to Lovino Vargas, the low-key detective. Gilbert had asked him if he was doing it for Feliciano, and Lovino had entrusted him with his goal.

Gilbert strolled up to the bar, leaning on the counter and ordering three mugs of beers off-the-bat. Antonio pushed himself higher so he could see Gilbert better. Looking back at Lovino, Antonio had a perplexed look on his face. He had obviously caught the 'Romano' slip.

"You know Gil?"

A sigh escaped Lovino's mouth, bringing his drink to his lips.

"Unfortunately." Gilbert propped himself over the table, looking past Francis.

"What the hell are you talking about? You know it's pretty great to know the awesome me!" Looking to the silent Frenchman for back up, "Right, Franny?"

Gilbert's beers arrived a moment later, the man taking them and slurping one of them down. Watching him, Francis rolled his eyes. "Yes, Gilbert. It's a _pleasure_ to have known you for _so_ long."

"Hey..." Blinking his eyes a few times and narrowing them at his blonde friend who was trying to hide his smile, Gilbert groaned, "Not cool! I don't appreciate your sarcasm!"

Antonio flashed a pleasant smile, leaning his elbows on the counter. "Don't tease him so much, Francis. You know how he gets when you question his awesomeness."

Turning to Antonio, "Toni, buddy, you think i'm awesome, right?"

"Of course, amigo!"

Gilbert wiped away an invisible tear, "You're such a good friend. Unlike _some_ people in between us."

Lovino and Francis just sipped their re-filled glasses, completely ignoring the two idiots next to them. With an alcohol-induced smile, Francis turned to the pissed Prussian.

"So Gilbert, how do you know Lovino or Romano or whatever the hell you call him?" Francis caught Lovino's scowl out of the corner of his eye, sending him a challenging smirk. What was that bastard trying to pull? It seemed Gilbert got over things quickly, because his annoying smile was back on his face. That, or the alcohol was working quicker than usual.

"Oh, we go way back when his and my family—" Gilbert didn't finish his sentence, in his haze remembering he had sworn to Lovino he wouldn't speak of his past. Awkwardly stumbling over his words, he finished lamely with, "I-uh I mean, back when we were kids. We hung out—uh, sometimes."

Both the Spaniard and the Frenchman stared at their friend, who had suddenly gone quiet as he finished his first mug of beer and started on his second. Lovino appreciated the cover-up, but could Gilbert have made it _any_ more noticeable? No wonder he was better at blabbering his mouth instead of keeping secrets.

Lovino clarified, "We were both in the same home school program."

A neatly arched blonde eyebrow greeted Lovino. "You mean that one for criminal heirs?"

Francis' statement caught him off guard. Lovino's eyes widened as the three men stared at him, before shooting daggers at the albino over the counter.

"You told them?!" Gilbert looked offended, throwing his hands in front of himself to explain.

"Well, yeah! They're my best friends, how could I not tell them about my life?"

"Damn it." Lovino cursed, slamming down his drink. With the amount of force exerted in his hand, he was surprised he hadn't broken the thin glass.

A strange chuckle came from the Frenchman, "Honhonhon, so the little Italian is a criminal. That's sexy."

"Shut the fuck up," he growled at the man's leer. Francis threw up his hands in mock defense.

"Ooooh, someone's testy. Toni, reign in your boyfriend."

Lovino felt Antonio's soothing and on his back, massaging it in little circles. The little points of stress under his skin began to untangle, leaving Lovino in a calmer state. Damn, when was the last time he got a massage?

"It's ok, mi querido," he cooed into his ear, "They won't tell anyone."

"Mon cher, if we can keep Gilbert out of jail, we can keep a secret."

Gilbert snickered, "They'll never catch the awesome Gilbert!"

Picking up his last mug, Gilbert downed the drink, the yellow liquid trailing down his chin. Letting out a satisfied sigh, Gilbert wobbled out of his chair and wedged himself in-between Lovino and Antonio.

"You guys are the best, you know that?" He looked at Lovino, a glassy expression in his ruby eyes. "Now that the cat's out of the bad, how's your revenge plan going?"

He was about to smack Gilbert for invading his privacy when he froze. He forgot the drink in his hands, the loud din of noise surrounding him, the low music in the background—all other thoughts ceased in his mind. He only thought of one word, which was set on repeat in his mind. Revenge.

That was right. Despite his stable state as an older and calmer individual, Lovino hadn't always been that way. The day he had decided to change his identity, he had been fueled by hate and revenge. Freshly eighteen, the eldest Italian had experienced things any normal teenager should never have to. He had seen death, been trained to kill, and lost his brother before he even learned how to drive a car. How could they have taken him away from him? Did they not understand the consequences? Feeling lost and abandoned, Lovino put his energy into avenging Feli. That drive allowed him to overcome his enemies and blaze through the academy, pushing him to the top of his class and, later, the office.

But what happened to that goal? Where had that rage that powered him for eight years gone? Strangely, since Antonio had come into his life, he had always felt filled with a sense of calmness around the Spaniard, and, for the first time in forever, happiness. Down in his heart, he somehow felt that his plan for revenge wasn't as important anymore. The only thing he desired now was… peace.

Lovino brushed back his bangs. What the hell happened to him?

"None of your fucking business." He muttered, though not with as much as conviction as usual. His mind was still stuck in the clouds, trying to understand his changing thoughts.

Gilbert, who was getting drunker by the minute, lazily threw an arm around his shoulder and grinned.

"Aw, come on, Romano. Lighten up." He slurred, getting too close for comfort. Lovino was going to push him off, but Antonio beat him to it. Grabbing Gilbert's arm and tugging it off of Lovino, Antonio glared at his friend, anger and a dark glint in his eyes that Lovino had only seen when he was serious.

"Don't touch _Lovino_."

The Prussian stumbled back, glaring at Antonio, "What the hell, Toni?!"

Confusion filled Lovino, who moved forward to stop the bickering men. Francis' hand on his shoulder, however, held him back. "Let them have their fun."

Lovino wanted to mention the possibility of them fighting was hardly what he would consider fun, but he sat back down anyway. Sometimes it was better to sit back than get involved.

Leaning over, Francis whispered to the Italian, "Looks like you stirred the beast."

Lovino could smell the alcohol on Francis' breath, and leaned back to put some pace between them.

"What?"

Francis began rolling the edge of his glass again, using the tips of his fingers to keep it in his hold.

"If you've known Toni for as long as I've had, you'd find that nothing ever really riles him up. Not even when we broke that window or when I'd hit on his date."

Scowling, Lovino stared at the man. "What kind of fucked up friend are you?"

A smile broke on the Frenchman's face. "Ah, mon cher, but that is beside the point. He's been a carefree guy all his life, but that over there,"—the blonde pointed with one finger in his best friends' direction—"is something I've never seen before."

Lovino noticed a glint of melancholy in the man's eyes, one he suspected was related to his British boss across the room. The next moment that look was gone, replaced with solemn one.

"Don't take it for granted."

Why was the damn Frenchman speaking in riddles? Lovino stared down at his glass, before looking back at him.

"I—" His response was cut off, however, when a hand grabbed him roughly. Turning, Lovino came face to face with Antonio's harsh gaze, forcing Lovino's voice back into his throat. Clasping Lovino's hand, the Spaniard dragged the man out of the bar off to the side without a word spoken.

The sky had turned a dark navy blue, illuminating the twinkling, white stars that decorated the night above them. They stood under the shade of a tree caused by the lone light post, which made them less visible to people passing by.

When Antonio let him go, Lovino glared at his boyfriend, "What the hell, bastard? I wasn't done talking to—"

Stepping forward, Antonio cut Lovino off with a searing kiss that left their lips chapped and swollen. It wasn't like their normal kisses, which were filled with silliness and joy, but rather left Lovino's mind feeling muddled and aroused. Lovino struggled to keep up with the amount of force Antonio was exerting, and had to push him away so he could grasp the situation.

"Hey Antonio, stop for a moment," he breathed out as Antonio leaned his head against his chest, his tan hands holding onto his shoulders.

"You're mine, right?" he said in a whisper against him. Lovino rolled his eyes, never too fond of the idea of belonging to someone.

"I'm not anyone's—"

Antonio cut him off again, this time louder. "You're mine, right? So why does Gil call you by your real name and know who you really are? Why does he know more about you than me?"

The strange response from the Spaniard made Lovino blink a few times and remain quiet. Was…was Antonio _jealous_? Of Gilbert? Lovino wanted to laugh out loud at the thought, but he controlled himself. Before he could respond, Antonio stepped away from him and continued.

"Look Lovi… I-I don't really know what just happened back there. One second I'm perfectly fine, and the next I'm trying to deck my best friend for being friendly with you. I've just…I've never been like this before."

Francis' words filled his mind and, suddenly, everything clicked. Antonio had been carefree all his life, so things like jealousy and frustration must have been new for him. The point was: Lovino meant something important to Antonio. Important enough to fight for, and important enough to care about being taken away by someone else.

Reentering the Spaniard's space again, Lovino wrapped his arms around his neck and placed a loving, gentle kiss on his lips.

"Gilbert's just an old acquaintance from my childhood before everything got fucked up. He's a total annoying bastard, but he's helped me out these past couple of years." Staring into his emerald eyes, "And I'm not Romano anymore—I'm Lovino. And the only person who's allowed to call me Lovi is you."

No more words were needed as they met each other in a slow kiss, Antonio tenderly caressing Lovino's cheek while the other arm wrapped around his waist. Lovino trembled in his hold, the rate of his heart accelerating to record levels. He was afraid if his heart beat any louder the Spaniard could hear it.

As the kiss continued, it got more heated, their tongues quickly greeting each other and commencing into an artful tango. Antonio tilted Lovino's chin up and to the side, which provided a better angle for him to sample the sweet Italian. He could taste the rich wine on his taste buds as he explored his lover's mouth and discovered the liquid went perfectly with Lovino's natural flavor.

Lovino had quickly gotten the same idea, and pulled himself up so he could reach higher into the Spaniard's mouth and get a taste of that hint of cinnamon that he had caught once and wished to find again. Their hands were all over each other, both men finding it impossible to hold back. If it wasn't for the tree's shade, they would probably have looked utterly indecent right now.

The thing that interrupted their make-out session was not any one stumbling upon them, but rather, a ringing from Lovino's pocket. The two men broke apart, pressing their foreheads together and sharing a serene look before Lovino reached for the device.

Lovino chuckled, "I swear, one more call interrupting us in the future and I'm chucking this piece of crap out the window."

Answering the phone, Lovino put it up to his ear. "Hello?"

" _Ah, Lovino. I can't find you at the bar. I figured you'd left."_

He immediately recognized the familiar British accent of his boss, but there was something off about Arthur's voice, something almost wrong.

"We're still here, but that doesn't matter. What is it, Arthur?"

There was a silence on the other end, one that he found strangely uncomfortable.

"Arthur?" He tried again.

" _Yeah, I'm here. I-uh, I just got a call."_

Something in the back of his head knew he shouldn't ask. Something told him it wasn't good.

"A call? From whom? About what? God damn it, just tell me."

The Brit voiced a long reluctant sigh.

" _I just got a call from the police department the next town over."_

" _Lovino,"_ Arthur spoke softly, a hint of regret in his tone, _"They found your brother."_

* * *

 **Ah, this was a rather difficult chapter to write, especially with the appearance of a lot of other characters and all. I hope you all enjoyed the lighter tone to this chapter, at least, before things get a little more intense.**

 **Thank you for reading! Lots of love for all of you. Your reviews give me inspiration. Stay tuned! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 11**_

* * *

Blankness. Confusion. Emptiness.

These emotions consumed Lovino, like he had been bitten by a poisonous bug that gave him awful symptoms.

What had happened? Why did everything feel so numb? Why couldn't he form a coherent thought, or get himself to breath normally? What was going on?

Everything suddenly didn't seem to make sense.

The phone slipped of out of Lovino's hold, falling straight onto the sharp concrete. His glass screen cracked from the impact, forming a hundred little jagged lines woven into an intricate web of chaos. He made no movement to pick it up—his body a stiff statue. He didn't care. Not at that moment.

Feliciano Vargas. Oh, dio. After all this time, they had found his sweet little brother.

He should have been rejoicing and celebrating like any other person would do. He wanted to, but there he stood, making no such movement. The only thing that held him back was the tone of Arthur's voice. That reluctant, solemn tone—he could figure out what he wasn't telling him without actually saying anything. It could really only mean one thing.

Feli had been found dead.

Lovino had prepared himself for that outcome, honestly. Obviously, if anyone had been gone as long as Feli had the likeness of finding him alive was little to none.

But no amount of planning could ever prepare him for the real deal. He felt like he had just been stabbed with a knife, his life slowly ebbing away and losing its purpose. How stupid was he, keeping hope even after so long? What was he supposed to do now?

It didn't matter, however. Not right now. He had to see it for himself. To put this ghost to rest. To obtain his closure.

Picking up his cracked phone from the ground, Lovino heard his name called a few times on the other line.

In a soft voice, Lovino demanded, "Give me the location. _Now_."

Arthur took a lengthy sigh, reading off the requested place into Lovino's ear before Lovino said a quick thank you and ended the call.

He stood there for a moment, absentmindedly staring at the device until he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He jumped a little, forgetting that he had been with Antonio only moments ago when it felt like hours.

"Hey…what's going on?" Antonio asked, concern filling his voice.

"They found Feli." His voice was monotone before a sudden rush of comprehension hit him. Looking ahead and clenching his phone, Lovino began walking forward. With a hurried tone, he repeated, " _They found Feli."_

Antonio tried to keep up with Lovino, whose pace had picked up as he made his way towards his vehicle. "Wait—you mean your little brother? Oh _dio_ , is he…? Lovi, where are you going?"

As Lovino pressed the 'unlock' button on his set of keys, he looked over across the hood of the car at his concerned boyfriend, a sliver of sanity returning to him.

"I-I've got to see him." His eyes casting downward, Lovino couldn't let Antonio see the pained expression on his face. Not waiting for a chance for him to comment, Lovino ducked his head into his car. Antonio copied him, sitting in next to the driver's seat. Lovino glanced at him from the corner of his eye, ready to tell him to leave and that he could do this alone. But as the Spaniard took his right hand and laced their fingers together, giving him an encouraging smile, he found that he couldn't say he could.

"I'm going with you, whether you like it or not."

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Lovino looked away. "Fine. It's not like I could convince you otherwise."

Lovino pulled his hand away and started the car, his mind set on his destination. Even when he knew it was too late, he couldn't help but think...

 _Wait for me, Feli._

~x~

The moment the tires squeaked against the pavement and came to a stop, the door was open and Lovino was out of the car.

The place was crawling with cops, red and blue lights flashing everywhere. Men in uniform were scrambling around the place and closing off the area with yellow and black caution tape. A man—most likely an officer—quickly stopped the duo from getting any further.

"This is a crime scene. I apologize, but I have to ask you to—"

The flash of their badges quickly silenced the man. Lovino looked at him with unemotional eyes. "We're detectives here to investigate this case."

Looking over their official IDs, the man waved for the duo to follow him. Antonio and Lovino trailed a short distance behind the officer, Lovino impatiently quickening his pace. The faster he walked, the more his shoes clacked against the pavement as he neared the entrance of the building.

Broken windows, smoking brown holes in the walls, firefighters cleansing the area—Lovino had a few conjectures about the crime scene. And taking in the condition of the building, it only made his heart sink more.

Approaching the smoky entrance, the man escorted them in. "Everything you see there—the first and second floor and a little bit of the third—was up in flames only hours ago. The fire team had been on it for a good thirty to sixty minutes until the fire finally was all out. After we got inside, we found two bodies completely scorched by the flames—completely un-identifiable except for this."—the officer handed Lovino a card—"This ID was the only thing we could recover from the victims."

Lovino looked over the plastic card he had been handed. The corner of it was melted and parts of the front were covered in dark brown burn marks, but clearly shown on the front of the ID card was the name 'Feliciano Vargas.' If the dark spots hadn't destroyed most of the card, he would have been able to see the man's face.

But Lovino was still skeptical. It wasn't like their name was rare—it could have been any Feliciano Vargas in the state of Illinois. Besides, this would mean that Feli had grown up to be an adult and somehow obtained a form of identification. It couldn't be, could it?

"Oh also," the officer reached into his pockets and felt around, finding what he was looking for and holding it out to the duo. "We found this. I'm guessing it was some sort of keychain."

Picking it up and observing it, Lovino's breath caught in his throat. His hands began to shake as he let his fingers linger over the partially burnt lanyard, feeling the familiar stretchy plastic texture and twisted design. Dangling at the end of it, there was a little silver charm of Italy.

He knew this keychain, because he had made it himself.

" _Feli…Feli…"_

 _When the younger boy in front of him didn't respond, Romano breathed in, "Stupid fratello, listen to me!"_

 _Feliciano looked up, a bright, joyful smile on his face. He was sitting with a group of three other kids, who were all too preoccupied with their own work to notice the additional presence. Why did their grandfather send them to these stupid get-togethers anyway if none of the kids actually talked to each other?_

" _Ah, Lovi! Some of the nice boys were showing me how to weave my lanyard! What do you think?"_

 _The eager boy held it out to his brother with both hands. Romano glanced down at it, a twitch forming in his eye as he did so. The lanyard that Feli had tried to make was blue, green, and yellow, all woven into a loose braid that was going to unravel any minute. Sighing, Romano bonked his brother on the head._

" _You idiota. I told you not to call me that! And what the hell is that thing? That's not a lanyard! It's supposed to look like this."_

 _Taking the lanyard from Feli's hold and ignoring his muttering 'I thought it looked ok', Romano untied the sucker and began re-braiding it. With free hands, Feli massaged his head and pouted. "But Roma doesn't suit you. It's like I'm talking to Nonno. Nope, Lovi fits you better. That way we both have cute nicknames!"_

" _I don't want a cute nickname. Here." Romano handed the fixed lanyard back to Feli. His brother looked over the tightened keychain and smiled happily._

" _Ve~ It's perfect. Grazie, fratello!"_

 _A slight blush took over Romano's face as he physically waved his hand in front of him to dispel the embarrassment._

" _It's nothing. But I, uh, actually made you something..." Feli began jumping up and down, embodying the cheerful child that he was._

" _Oooh. What is it? I wanna see! I wanna see!"_

" _Ok, ok. Here." Romano pulled something out of his pants pocket and handed it to his little brother's open hand. Feli looked over the lanyard that Romano had made. It was woven into a spiral design with the colors of the Italian flag, unlike Feli's which had been the regular box design. At the bottom of it was a cute little charm he had found of the Italian peninsula, which Feli had flicked back and forth with his finger nail._

 _Suddenly Feli's arms were squeezing Romano's body in a bone-crushing hug. "Lovi…I love it! You're the best big brother ever!"_

" _I know, now get off me!"_

 _Feli giggled and smiled at his brother, "This one can be yours."_

 _He handed Romano the one he had made before running back to his group mates. He wiggled the keychain around, practically putting it in each person's face._

 _Romano looked down at his gift and allowed himself a small smile before heading back to his own table._

He remembered that day very clearly, even now.

And there was no mistake that the lanyard in the palm of his hand was the one he had given to his brother many years ago. It looked as it had before, only with portions of it melted by the fire. Reaching into his back pocket, Lovino pulled out his wallet where a similar lanyard hung. Lovino swallowed.

There was no doubt. So one of the men in that fire had to be…

Feli.

His heart began to beat wildly, his breath shallowing as his mind started to glaze over. They began walking through the scorched rooms, every second getting closer and closer. Any moment they would be there. The search would be over and Feli would finally be laid to rest.

He could do this. He could do this. He could…

The three men stopped in front of a door guarded by another cop. The cop nodded at the officer, letting the men go past him. Lovino stepped into the room with Antonio close behind. It was a normal motel room, with two beds, a TV, and bathroom. The only difference was that half the whole room had caught fire, turning those normal amenities to ashes of dust. The air was still thick with smoke, but mostly, there was a strange scent in the air—one that sent a shiver down Lovino's spine.

"We don't know how or why the fire was started, but from what we can track, we believe it started from within this room where the bodies were found."

Lovino froze in his tracks. His eyes quickly found the source of the smell and immediately he spun back around. Even looking away, he could never un-see what he had seen. There, on the floor, were two bodies completely burned beyond comprehension. He couldn't even make out their faces, only their painful burns and dried skin filling his vision. The hair was fried off of their bodies, and moving them made you feel like they would be too brittle and break in half.

One of those men was his brother. His baby fratello. And he couldn't even fucking tell which one he was. Could God be crueler than that?

Lovino gagged several times, quickly exiting the room and leaving the officer and Antonio alone. Antonio wanted to follow, to comfort his distraught boyfriend, but he knew he couldn't. Not at that moment. He had to stay there for Lovino and get all the information he could. If anything, he had to be strong for him.

"Officer, what information do you have on these two men? Was this a suicide? Homicide?"

Scratching the top of his head, the officer sighed. "It was strange… I ran whatever information I could find in the data base and came up with nothing. There did seem to be evidence of a struggle, but in this condition, it's hard to exam both the victims and the evidence due to the fire."

Antonio nodded, reluctantly walking over to the bodies. It was hard to think that one of these charred men was Lovino's missing brother. He leaned down and looked over the men, his eyes scanning them for anything out of place, or anything that they could use for DNA purposes. Getting to the lower part of the men's bodies, he noticed that both men had their clothes and shoes relatively intact. Antonio turned to the man behind him.

"How could this happen?" He pointed, the officer leaning over to get a better look.

"Ah, that's another weird thing. Apparently, both victims were wearing fireproof wear as if they were already anticipating the fire. Obviously, protective clothing can only go so far, but if they were prepared, how were they not able to make it out in time?"

Pulling out a switchblade knife, Antonio cut open the thick jacket the man had been wearing. Peeling back the layers of the clothing, the Spaniard examined the slightly burned chest and widened his eyes.

There on the left side of the victim's chest was a bloodied bullet wound that had bled through the white undershirt. "Looks like it wasn't the smoke or burns that killed them."

Antonio stood up and walked around to the other body, repeating the same action with the second jacket. He wasn't shocked to find the same results.

Backing away, the Spaniard ran a hand through his hair. "Can you run a DNA test with the material that you have?"

The officer nodded, "With this much of their bodies intact, it won't be a problem. We'll have a DNA match in a couple days."

"Thank you. Please contact me when you get a match." Writing down his information on a piece of paper and handing it to him, Antonio gave the man an appreciative nod. "I'm going to go check on my partner now."

"Sure thing, detective. Go ahead."

Antonio navigated his way through the busy building, past the bustling firefighters and cops, and out into the parking lot where he figured Lovino would probably be if he wanted some air. He found Lovino on the side of the building, leaning against the wall with his head facing towards the ground and hair falling over his eyes.

Slowly making his way over, the brunette quietly stood next to him. It pained him to see his tomate this way—so stricken with hurt and sorrow that the bright golden undertone in his eyes seemed to dim. Lovino never deserved this. All he wanted to do was bring the man into a protective hug and whisper in his ear that it was going to be ok. Anything to regain his wonderful, moody Lovino who breathed life into him.

"They found enough evidence to conduct a DNA test. We'll know the identities of the men soon enough."

Lovino still remained quiet, shifting his head away from Antonio and sighing. "There's no need to."

Antonio blinked at the low comment, "What?"

Finally looking over at Antonio, Lovino stared at him with strange eyes. They seemed to burn an even brighter shade of gold, with little hints of black decorating them. The white inside his eye was red and the lids surrounding it were puffy as if he had been crying, but there were no tears in them. Something about them didn't sit well with Antonio.

With more force, he repeated, "There's no fucking need to! I know that's my brother in there!"

"Lovi…until they do a DNA test, we can't be for sure if it's your brother or not."

"It has to be, Antonio!" Lovino thrust out the keychain, which dandled in his hold, "I made him this when we were seven! He…he took it everywhere."

All of a sudden, Lovino's voice sounded so broken and fragile that Antonio couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around his partner in a reassuring hug. Lovino didn't resist, instead finding himself pulling Antonio closer to him and burying his head into the crook of his neck.

Petting Lovino's hair, Antonio whispered, "Mi tomate, let's head home for tonight. What you need right now is some rest and a good night's sleep."

A boiling rage, however, began to rise up in Lovino. What did he brother ever do to deserve this end? If he hadn't been taken in the first place, this never would have happened. Someone needed to pay.

The need for vengeance rapidly filled him, and suddenly he remembered what it was like to be that young teenager consumed with animosity and bitterness. Suddenly, he remembered how strong a motivator revenge really was. Lovino gripped Antonio tighter.

"No. I'm not going home, not tonight."

His head pulled back, staring at Lovino, who had his hardened eyes focused on the wall behind him.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a questioning look. Lovino returned his gaze to Antonio, and he was surprised to find hatred boiling in them. They were filled with the same darkness Antonio had seen when Lovino had infiltrated the warehouse when Antonio was kidnapped and he outsmarted the criminals. But this time, the look was 100% real.

"I'm going to kill him." He said softly, removing his hold from the brunette. As Lovino walked away, Antonio momentarily stood in shock before he caught up with his determined partner.

"Lovi, who—"

"I'm going to kill my grandfather." He spoke in that same monotone voice, quickly walking through the crowd of spectators and approaching his car.

This was bad. It was like Lovino had been taken over and wasn't thinking straight. He had to reason with him.

"Lovino, you can't just—"

Swinging open his car door and entering, Lovino rolled down the window to look at his partner. Antonio put both hands on the car, staring down at him with a worried expression.

"Don't try to stop me." With that, Lovino rolled up the glass and looked away.

"Lovino!" Antonio banged on the glass and car door—anything to stop the Italian from making a huge mistake.

But Lovino still drove away, making his way down the street and leaving a stranded Antonio. Cursing under his breath, the Spaniard quickly ran back to the crime scene.

Finding a cop, he got straight to the point. "I need to borrow a police car, now."

The cop laughed, placing his hands on his hips.

"No way in—"

Antonio grabbed the man by the collar, shoving his badge into his vision.

"I said, _now_."

The man nodded frantically, handing him the keys to his car. Dropping the man and heading to the car, Antonio buckled his seat belt and started the car. All he could keep chanting to himself was…

 _Please make it in time._

~x~

Lovino zoomed through the streets of his city, not caring if he ran any red lights or could potentially have hit anyone.

His eyes held steady, his hands tightly on the steering wheel as he zeroed in on his destination.

He didn't stop for a moment to think as he arrived in front of his grandfather's mansion. This time, instead of entering through the front, he decided to try his luck around the back. Parking his car a few streets away, Lovino walked up to the back gate. He looked down at the key pad and entered the number that he remembered from his childhood. When that didn't work, he thought for a moment before trying out his grandfather's favorite year, which he always ended up using for passwords. The door buzzed, letting Lovino go in.

Walking up the pathway and to the home, Lovino hid behind a wall from a few guards who were passing by. A few seconds later they left, allowing Lovino to sneak around the side and slip through an open door. By memory, he snaked his way down the halls through the darkness.

Lovino passed the library and came to the door of his grandfather's study which was closed. A glowing light, however, told him someone was inside.

Soundlessly turning the handle and walking in, Lovino saw his grandfather standing in front of his fireplace, looking down at its fiery embers. He faintly recalled the times he and Feli had played in the study, reading stories in front of a warm fire. The memories only added fuel to his anger.

Lovino's heartbeat began to beat wildly in his ears as his hand slipped into his pants and retrieved his silver pistol. This was it. He was finally going to do it. He was going to get his revenge.

His hand slowly held up the weapon, aiming it directly at the unsuspecting man's head. His finger moving to rest on the trigger, he swallowed down a large knot in his throat.

He pressed his lips together when he heard his grandfather's voice.

"Come to finish your old grandfather off, are we?" He said without looking back at Lovino. A silent moment passed before Nonno turned to him, "Didn't I ever teach you it is rude to point guns at other people?"

Even with his casual and joking tone, Lovino could see sadness in his eyes, which threw him off-guard. Shaking away any inklings of sympathy, he shot him a fierce glare.

"You killed Feli," Lovino growled, staying in place.

Nonno stared at him and leaned his arm on the mantle of the fireplace. "Now that's a little extreme. I would never do anything to harm either of my grandsons."

Anger boiled up within Lovino. "You liar! I saw you that night. You took him away!"

There was a silence that took over the amicable man, one that Lovino found agonizingly long.

"I should have known you were awake," he said in a quiet voice before taking on a sterner one, "Romano, you have to understand that parents and guardians must make sacrifices to ensure the safety of their heirs."

"So you sacrificed your own grandson." Lovino said in a snarl, his fingers clenching his gun tighter in his hold.

A strange expression passed on Nonno's face, one that seemed to emulate confusion. "Romano, I think you're misunderstanding—"

He couldn't stand it anymore. He had to get this over with.

"Save it, I don't want to hear it," Steadying the gun, "I should have done this the day you took him."

Before he could pull the trigger, however, a voice cut through the air.

"Lovi!"

Lovino froze. He had to have been hallucinating. There was no way. He had only heard two people ever use that name in his life. One was Antonio, who he had reluctantly agreed to let him use, and the other…

"Feli." he breathed out.

Perhaps this was all a dream, or maybe he was already dead. The man standing across the room was the same age as him, but he could never mistake those distinct features of his brother's face. But his brother was dead, wasn't he? How could he possibly be standing before him? Why would his mind play such a cruel trick on him?

His consciousness began to fade, his mind quickly reaching its limit. By the time he hit the floor, the only thing he could make sense of was the brilliant flames from the burning fire, weakening as darkness overtook him.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'm heading back to school today, so these next couple weeks are going to be pretty busy for me. So, i'm not sure when i'll be able to get the next chapter out. There are 6 or 7 more chapters left! I'll do my best.**

 **Thank you for reading & reviewing! Stay tuned! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: I am so sorry for this veeeeery late update. I left it at such a cliff-hanger last time and I hope this makes up for that :) College classes hit me hard and I didn't have much motivation to write. I WILL finish this story (i'm determined to), though it will probably be in summer time.**_

* * *

 _ **Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 _ **Chapter 12**_

 _"Hey, Lovi. Can you pass the markers?"_

 _Looking up from his paper at his brother, an eight-year-old Lovino sighed._

 _"Can you do anything yourself, idiota? Here." He shoved a handful of pens in Feli's direction, which earned him an oblivious smile from the younger boy._

 _"Ah, grazie!"_

 _He clutched the markers and began humming a happy tune to himself while he got back to work. Other than that the two boys colored in relative silence, only the sounds of the felt tips gliding across paper filled the room as they outlined their drawings. While Feli drew a garden filled with simple flowers, Lovino was in the process of drawing the front of their grandiose home which was coming out pretty well in his eyes._

 _Muffled voices in the hallway alerted their attention and halted their movements. They recognized their grandfather's laugh and were silent as his figure moved into the room. They didn't expect, however, that he would be followed by a small blonde boy who hid behind his legs._

" _Ah, boys! I'm working out some business with this young man's father. He's going to play together with you for a bit, alright?"_

 _The two Vargas grandsons gave nods of understanding before Nonno pushed the hesitant little boy towards the center of the room. He reached over the table to his grandsons and ruffled their heads, earning a scowl and a giggle._

" _That's m'boys," Turning back to the door, Nonno flashed them a big grin before waving back at them, "Have fun!"_

 _Lovino and Feliciano glanced at the newcomer, who stood awkwardly at the ground as if he could will himself to disappear. Well used to their grandfather having many visitors and thus other children to meet, Feliciano stood up to greet him while Lovino went back to coloring._

" _Ciao! Want to color with us?"_

 _The boy seemed surprised by his gesture—his face lighting up with astonishment as he looked over the younger brother. Swallowing a large lump in his throat, the boy nodded eagerly and followed Feli to the table. Lovino watched them from the corner of his eye, but made no movement to engage them._

 _After giving the boy a sheet of paper, Feli held up one of the pens in his hand, "Here. This is my favorite marker. It's my good luck charm. Ve, it will make you smile!"_

" _Smile…?" The boy repeated in disbelief as he hesitantly took the marker and stared at it for a long time as if it was some sort of magic wand that he had no idea how to use. A "tch" came from Lovino before he held out another marker over the table to the amazed boy._

" _This one's lucky too. Try coloring and you'll see." The boy looked up at him with wide eyes before nodding determinedly. Squeezing the markers between his fingers, he began drawing various shapes and saw how the lines seemed to glow with color._

" _Ah!" the boy exclaimed, looking up at the two brothers with the slightest of smiles. "Thank you."_

Lovino's eyes fluttered open, drowsiness weighing heavily on his eyelids. His mind was in a mess—the remnants of his dream mixing with his reality. He recognized the dream as an old memory, one he had forgotten long ago. Why did he dream about it now? And who was that boy again? He felt like he knew the answer, but it quickly slipped his mind when he realized there was a weight on his stomach.

Propping himself up, Lovino peered down at the young man quietly sleeping on the side of his bed. There was a peaceful expression on the boy's sleeping face as his chest rose and fell with every breath that made Lovino's heart swell with emotion.

There was no doubt about it.

The man in front of him was Feliciano.

Lovino noticed that Feliciano's hair seemed lighter than it used to be, while Lovino's was a shade darker. His scrawny body as a child seemed to have finally filled out, making him appear more like a man. His face, however, held its boyish look. He looked a little older and tired, but most importantly he was safe and in one piece with no burns in sight.

Quietly lifting his fingertips to touch the soft, silky auburn hair, Lovino could only think: how was this possible?

As if God had sent an answer, a voice spoke up from the doorway as he stroked his baby brother's locks.

"You know, he hasn't left your side since you fainted."

Lovino glanced up towards the sound of the voice and recognized it as his grandfather's. The man stared down at his two grandsons—a pleasant expression on his face that Lovino hadn't seen in years.

His memories suddenly flowed back to him, reminding him everything that had happened before he had fallen unconscious. The bar. The crime scene. Going to the Vargas estate. Pointing a gun at his grandfather. He rubbed his forehead, urging the slight ache to go away.

"But how? I thought—"

"You should really let your elders speak before interrupting them." Nonno interjected, receiving a glare from Lovino. When Lovino stayed silent, the older man smiled and pressed further into the room before beginning.

"You see, the Vargas family has always experienced conflict. Challenges from other organizations, hit men, evading the authorities—you name it. It was, however, never too extreme, and there never was a reason to bring my two grandsons into a mess their old grandfather could handle. But I never would have expected trouble to come from within our own organization."

Lovino blinked. Trouble? What trouble?

"What do you mean?"

Nonno sighed and walked over to the window, staring down at their massive, landscaped yard. Statues, flower gardens, and perfectly carved trees decorated the ground. It was a scenery fit for a king. However taking a closer look, one could see weeds peeking through the dark dirt and wilting roses dying in the flower beds. Indeed, not everything was as perfect as it seemed.

"Do you remember the time when you and your brother were kidnapped?"

Something poked at his mind, scratching and irritating as if trying to get out. Kidnapped...? He remembered it vaguely. Years of suppression blurred his memory, but he could never forget the trauma it had caused. How he had developed his claustrophobia and how Feli had cried for hours.

"Yes, I remember." He confirmed quietly, his hands fisting into the bed sheets.

"You were only ten years old, certainly not old enough to handle something like that. We saved you quickly enough, but tell me, Romano, do you remember what the kidnappers looked like?"

"Are you kidding? It was so dark and they were wearing masks and I couldn't see much through the c-cage," he forced out, bits and pieces of his memory returning to him. They disgusted him and made him want to vomit.

"Indeed. It was hard to believe someone could get through our guards and security system so undetected. Before we even knew it, you both were gone. However, when we found you, we also discovered something quite unexpected."

Nonno turned around and looked him in the eye, "The people who had kidnapped you both were members of our own family."

Words tried to come out of Lovino's mouth, but for some reason they stayed nested deep in his throat. All he could muster out was a rough, "W-what?"

"It makes sense, yes? Who would ever expect our own ranks to go after the heirs? But I of all people should have seen it coming." Nonno looked out the window again and frowned, the creasing in his eyebrow becoming more prominent.

"Ever since my good for nothing son gave up his title as heir, there had been speculation and various disagreements over which one of his children would succeed me. Some preferred you for your tough and responsible nature, while others though Feliciano would be better fit with his amicable personality and high level of patience. It had been a major issue for years, and no side could come to an agreement. I didn't pay much attention to it, honestly. The succession wasn't going to happen for a while, and I saw no point to dwell on it. Not until things started to get dangerous.

"Your supporters were a lot more violent than Feli's, and hence kidnapping and attempted deaths ensued. The members who sided with you formed a well-executed plan, kidnapping both of you in order to avoid suspicion. By making it seem like they were after both brothers, they could easily be mistaken for a rival organization and eliminate their real target: Feli. A spy I had placed in their group reported their true intention to me, and luckily both of you were unharmed."

"How come I never noticed this?" Lovino questioned, still trying to wrap his head around all the new information.

"What kind of father figure would I be if I let my grandsons feel threatened to live in their own home?" He looked at Lovino like he was saying the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe he was, but for years the grandson had had no faith in his grandfather. Tired of this long story, he sighed.

"So what does this have to do with Feli's disappearance?"

Nonno slightly smiled, the wrinkled deepening in the corner of his eyes. "No matter how much I could protect you both from the discourse of our members, one day it just proved too much. Arguments flared up again, and suddenly a few people wanted to take action against my youngest grandson. They had put a dangerous type of poison in his food, making him progressively sicker every day. We discovered traces before it could take a real toll, but I had had enough.

"In order to ensure Feli's safety, I decided the right thing to do was take him away and place him with one of my trusted friends and his wife. He deserved to spend his youth free of harm and filled with happiness. I told no one of his circumstances, not even his own brother. After that, problems died down, and the Vargas organization seemed to reach a peace. But _dio_ , it was the hardest decision of my life."

Lovino glowered down at his clenched fists, holding back everything he wanted to say. How could Nonno make that decision for Feliciano? How could he separate two happy brothers and not tell the other about where he went? By saving Feli's childhood from the grips of mafia life, Nonno had in the process destroyed Lovino's. Did his grandfather have no heart?

But...despite his unhappiness with his grandfather, he did get where he was coming from. His brother's life had been in danger, and if escalated, the family's division would create all out civil war.

 _"Romano, you have to understand that parents must make sacrifices to ensure the safety of their heirs."_

His grandfather had mentioned that, but he hadn't wanted to listen. In order to protect what you loved, you had to make sacrifices. Life was never going to be a walk in the park. Lovino knew that well. And staring at the sad yet loving expression Nonno held as he stared down at the peacefully sleeping boy in Lovino's lap, he supposed Nonno's hadn't been either.

"Why...why didn't you tell me?" he asked, attracting Nonno's attention.

"You don't think I wanted to? But how could I possibly tell my adolescent grandson that I would be taking away his only brother? You never would have understood why, not at that age."

And Nonno was probably right. His younger self had an unruly temper and his impulsive attitude was magnified.

"But if this is Feli," he pointed down, "Then what about the crime scene? The man who was burned to death?"

Nonno smiled, placing his hands behind his back. "That was a cover up. Feli and his companion had trouble making their way over here. They were forced to stage the scene in order to throw their assailants off their trail. Apparently, you aren't the only one who has a bounty on his head."

He couldn't lie—finding out that the dead man he had only thought hours before was his own brother lifted an invisible weight off his shoulders. Finally, he had a little bit of closure. Closure that he hadn't had in years. Maybe God didn't have it out for him as much as he thought.

But just as relief began to take over, dread settled upon him.

"W-what? So whoever is after me is after Feli, too?"

"Quite likely." Nodding, Nonno gestured behind him to a man standing in the doorway, "Good thing this young man was with him, otherwise they might have already gotten him."

Lovino sized up the well-built, blonde man who wore a calm and collected expression on his face. He looked like some type of military man, with his soldier-like posture and dark green combat outfit.

"This is the guy that's been watching over Feli?!"

Taking this as a cue, the man stepped forward and extended a hand out to Lovino.

"My name is Ludwig. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Romano." Lovino was about to correct him when he realized where he was and who he was with. He held his tongue, opting to give him his best death glare and shaking his hand reluctantly.

Ludwig looked unaffected, as if his death glare did not faze him in the least. Who was this man? What the hell did he want with his baby brother?

"Only to protect him." Lovino blinked, wondering how the man had read his mind. It was only a few seconds later that he realized that he had voiced his thoughts.

The man silently petted the sleeping boy's head, the affection transpiring into his previously stern and unmoving expression. With a 'tch', Lovino looked away. It was a good answer. He'd let him off the hook for now.

Suddenly, Nonno spoke up, "Oh yeah, your Spanish boyfriend is downstairs making you some soup. I think he spoils you too much."

Lovino whipped his head around as soon as he heard 'Spanish boyfriend.' Damn it. He had left Antonio at the crime scene with no explanation or notion of what he was about to do. Knowing him, he was probably worried sick about Lovino.

"Antonio's here? Fuck. When did he get here?"

His grandfather hummed. "Hmmm…probably immediately after you fainted? He just about had a fit." Nonno laughed moving to head out of the room. Before he could, Lovino spoke up.

"Ah wait, Nonno! What should we about this whole bounty thing?" Nonno pondered it before shooting a smirk at the young Italian.

"My men have handled most of it. As for extraneous factors, well, you're the detective. Figure it out. Besides, I think you can handle yourself, _Lovino_."

Lovino's mouth dropped. Did...did Nonno just reveal his secret? Damn it, had that fucker known all along? His grandfather's smug expression turned into a soft smile as he looked to the younger Italian.

"As for him, he may need a little more help. I can entrust him to you, Ludwig?"

Ludwig nodded in affirmation and continued to watch over the peaceful boy.

Nonno moved his head in agreement, before turning to leave. He stopped, however, when he heard Lovino's low voice.

"Nonno, I can't forgive you for everything, but I at least want to say... I'm sorry." Lovino whispered, feeling guilty for all the pain he had put his old grandfather through. Nonno laughed heartily and walked back over to him to ruffle his hair.

"Well, shit happens. That's life for you. But never forget: i'm proud of you, m'boy." With that, he exited the room.

Lovino sat there, staring at the window as his mind mulled everything it had been told. He had learned a lot, but there were still a lot of pieces missing from the puzzle. Despite that, he felt a sense of calmness and peace wash over him.

It wasn't long before the rustling of the bed sheets drew him out of his thoughts. Lovino watched as his younger brother rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes and lazily glanced at him.

"Lovi...?" he muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion. It was only a few seconds more before Feli's eyes widened into large saucers.

"LOVI!" The man lunged at Lovino, hugging him tightly.

Lovino couldn't help but return the embrace. He savored the feeling of his long lost brother in his arms—the way he giggled through his tears and the way his heart pounded through his chest. It was strange to think after all this time he was finally there.

Figuring that their reunion had enough sentimentality, Lovino leaned back. "Ok, ok, idiota. Enough hugging."

Feliciano moved away, revealing a broad grin and wet eyes. "I'm so glad you're ok! I thought something might have happened to you. I didn't know."

 _Wow, way to look lame in front of your own brother_. Trying to regain some dignity, Lovino waved a hand in front of his face. "I only fainted. It's kind of a shock to see your missing brother for the first time in nine years."

With a low laugh, Feli sat up. "I suppose you're right. You didn't know I was coming! I told Nonno, but I guess he didn't get around to telling you."

Lovino clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "Of course he failed to mention that little piece of information before I decided to come waltzing in and pointing a fucking gun in his face…" he muttered under his breath. Feli giggled and flashed a smile at his brother.

"You're still the same Lovi I remember. I'm happy you haven't changed."

A pained expression graced Lovino's face as his eyes settled on his hands on his lap. "I've been through a lot, Feli. I don't know if I'm the same person I was when we were kids. I'm sure you're not either."

"You know, I didn't remember anything about our past for the longest time."

Lovino looked up, his eyes focused on his brother's peaceful expression. His eyes were focused towards the ceiling while his lips curved slightly. "It felt like a piece of my memory was blocked out. Like I was looking at my past through a foggy window and no matter what I would do I could only make out shapes and sounds. Even though Elizabeta and Roderich provided me a good home, I still felt I was missing something."

"If you couldn't even remember who I was, then how did you know how to find me?" Lovino questioned, bringing Feli's bright eyes to rest upon him. As if it would answer the question, Feliciano glanced back at Ludwig behind him and shot him a loving smile. Unprepared for the sweet gesture, the blonde tried to will down a light blush.

Lovino blinked. How had he forgotten that the blonde was there the whole time? And why was he getting embarrassed at one little look? Lovino's eyes narrowed at the two men before him. Was there something they weren't telling him?

Before he could inquire, Feli spoke up. "I ran into Luddy! Well, more like Luddy was looking for me." Lovino arched an eyebrow, urging his younger brother to continue.

"You see… we came from Indiana. Lovi, the bounty reaches as far as the next state over. At first we thought they were just after you because Luddy mistook me for you, but we found out later that they put one on me, too."

 _That far?_ _But how?_ Lovino blinked, realizing the implication of that statement.

"You're telling me this potato bastard"—Ludwig frowned at the name—"was looking for me? Why do you care who I am?"

Scratching the back of his head, Feli chuckled awkwardly. "Ah, well… he's kind of a hit man."

There was a flash and Lovino was across the room, holding the taller blonde man by the collar. Clenching his teeth together and tightening his hold on the man's dark shirt, Lovino growled.

"So you're telling me you tried to assassinate my baby brother because you thought he was me?" Ludwig seemed mostly unaffected by Lovino's sharp glare and dared to hold the man's gaze. He didn't try to remove Lovino from his hold on him, nor listen to Feli as he pleaded with Lovino to return to his bed.

Clearing his throat, Ludwig began. "Initially, yes. It was only a job." When he saw Lovino's expression grow even more dangerous, he quickly explained himself.

"But I didn't hurt him! Usually I'm only hired to take out escaped convicts or criminals who haven't been caught. I soon figured out he wasn't you, and that both were innocent. I never thought they'd be after brothers with clean slates," Ludwig glanced towards Feli—an affectionate expression on his face as his lips formed into a small smile. "After I met Feli and we began piecing together his memories, I would never put him in danger again."

Lovino looked him over as if his eyes could somehow determine whether he was lying or not. Seeing no hints of deceit, he slowly released the German man.

Stepping away, Lovino sighed. "Who hired you?"

Ludwig shook his head. "All the paperwork was done through my agency and filed anonymously. If they pay a minimum of $100,000, they don't have to provide any information what so ever."

Kicking the chair next to him, Lovino hissed, "Damn."

They all were silent for a moment, mulling over the information before Lovino ran a hand through his hair and sat on the bed.

"I-I'm just glad that you're alive, Feli. You don't know how long I've been looking into your case, trying to find out what happened to you."

Moving to sit next to his brother, Feliciano placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this. I know it wasn't easy. When I talked to Nonno, he said that you were the only one strong enough to handle the situation. He was completely right. You're amazing, fratello."

The way that Feli's eyes sparkled, Lovino couldn't deny the amount of emotions overwhelming him. "Feliciano…"

A slight knock on the open door drew their attention. There in the doorway stood a smiling Antonio, who was holding a tray of tomato soup and water.

"Buena tarde, Lovi."

Lovino felt his heart begin to pound, a sense of relief and guilt flooding through him.

"Tonio…" he whispered out. As if sensing the weird atmosphere, Felt bounced up.

"Well! We'll take our leave. We'll be downstairs if you need us. Ciao!"

A smiling Feli pulled a perplexed Ludwig out the room and slammed the door behind them. There was a small silence that followed as Lovino laid back on his bed and Antonio placed the tray on the nightstand to the left of the bed. After Antonio handed him the soup, Lovino indulged in the delicious taste of tomatoes before glancing at his boyfriend.

Leaning up, Antonio opened his mouth to speak when Lovino cut him off.

"I know, I know. That was incredibly irresponsible of me. I should have listened to you and cooled off my head before rushing into a situation like that," Looking down at his lap, Lovino bit at his lip as he clenched his hands into fists, "I'm sorry."

Antonio was quiet for a moment before he let out one of his sweet laughs. "I was actually just going to ask if you wanted bread with your soup."

With a prominent blush of embarrassment, Lovino placed the near empty bowl back on the tray before scowling and crossing his arms. Antonio was seated on the side of his bed before reaching out and wrapping Lovino in a warm embrace. The Italian couldn't find the motivation to pull himself away, and found himself relaxing into his boyfriend's arms.

"I'm not going to reprimand you, Lovi. You're a grown man, and probably more responsible than I am."

With a light chuckle, he continued, "But I was incredibly worried. If I hadn't known where you were heading, I might have called upon the whole police station to track you down."

"I-ah, y-you care that much?" he asked just above a whisper.

It wasn't as if Lovino didn't think Antonio cared about him. He had been living in a world free of emotional attachment for so long that he just found it hard to believe in people. It was just too good to be true. Antonio was too good for him.

"You know I do, Lovi." Antonio leaned forward, placing a slow, chaste kiss upon Lovino's lips. His eyes couldn't help but flutter closed, the nerves in his stomach beginning to act up. He remembered their first kiss, and their most recent make-out in the parking lot. Damn. Why did it feel so good to be with Antonio?

With a slight smirk, Antonio added, "This coming from the man who snuck into a rival mafia home base and busted out his kidnapped boyfriend."

Not ready to lose the contact of their lips, Lovino followed him as Antonio pulled away, stopping him by latching onto the fabric of his shirt. Kissing him again, Lovino teasingly bit the bottom of Antonio's lips, "You would have been toast without me, bastard."

The slight teasing tone and playful kiss made Antonio pause for a moment before a seductive smirk fell on his face. He lifted his tan hand carefully to caress Lovino's face, his thumb tracing the Italian's jawline.

"I know. You don't hear me complaining."

And then Antonio's lips were on his. There was a lot more passion and hunger in this kiss than the previous ones. Their tongues moved against each other's not in battle but in an artful dance that left Lovino's head spinning with lust. Lovino moaned into the kiss as Antonio pushed him back onto the pillow and leaned over him. He placed his hands on his cheeks, partially to keep Antonio from falling on him but mostly to pull him closer. As Antonio slowly rested his body on top of Lovino's, the small fire that had sparked in Lovino's stomach amplified and went straight to his groin. Suddenly it was hot. Too hot.

There was a slight pause in their movements as their eyes met. They looked at each other with half-lidded expressions and flushed faces, their chests moving up and down in heavy breaths. It was at that moment that Lovino felt his heart tighten and he wasn't an idiot not to know what that meant.

 _Dio_ , just how far gone was he?

Their lips parted in anticipation as they met each other again. He hissed as Antonio rubbed against him again, making him despise the clothes that separated them from each other.

As if reading his mind, Antonio tugged at Lovino's shirt and gasped out, "Clothes."

Lovino nodded, propping himself up to pull his own shirt off and reaching out to help Antonio with his. Once the troublesome material was thrown to the floor, Lovino admired his boyfriend's broad chest and ran a hand down lightly his toned stomach. Damn, why did he have to be so fucking beautiful?

A light laugh woke Lovino from his trance. Pecking Lovino on the lips, Antonio leaned forward and whispered huskily into his ear, "You're the beautiful one here, mi corazon."

His cheeks reddened as a shiver ran down his spine. Shit, he had spoken his thoughts out loud again, didn't he?

Rolling his eyes and declaring _fuck it_ in his head, Lovino pulled Antonio back down to kiss him. As their hot skin moved slid each other and their nerves were lighting up like fireworks, they found that the clothes definitely weren't going to be missed. Lovino had just begun to reach for Antonio's belt on his jeans before a loud knock at the door startled them.

Breathing heavily and feeling very impatient, the Italian man practically yelled, "Whoever is there, go away before I kill you!"

Antonio only chuckled as they moved apart. Feli's head poked through the door, a terrified expression on the younger man's face.

"Ah, Lovi… Sorry to interrupt, but Nonno is calling a group meeting."

"What? Can't we do it later?" He would very much rather spend his afternoon with Antonio's tongue down his throat, thank you very much.

"He said it's important."

Sighing very dramatically, Lovino conceded, "Ok, fine. We'll be there."

When Feli didn't make a move to leave, Lovino arched an eyebrow.

"And?"

Feliciano jumped at Lovi's exasperated tone and latched onto the door. "Ah, yes! Um… Nonno just told me to tell you that the walls are thin, so…"

Lovino groaned, muttering something about ruining all the fun before pushing himself over the side of the bed and standing up.

"All right, get out."

When Feli didn't move fast enough, Lovino added a harsher "GET OUT!" before his younger brother squeaked out a "ve!" and scampered away.

A light chuckle came from his lips. Ah, it felt good to be an older brother again. Antonio picked up their clothing off the floor and handed him his shirt, which he reluctantly put back over his head.

"I think you scared him." Antonio stated as he followed suit. Lovino just scoffed.

"That was sort of the point. I feel like that potato bastard downstairs has done nothing but baby him."

"Maybe you should be easier on him, mi carino. He did have a hard journey." He hummed as if contemplating the proposal before he smirked.

"Hah, I don't go easy on anyone." Pulling the surprised man forward by the collar, Lovino kissed him fully before whispering against his lips, "Especially you, bastard."

"I'll hold you to that," Antonio flashed him a brilliant smile before petting Lovino's hair, "You're too cute, Lovinito."

Lovino blushed before pushing Antonio towards to door. Damn him.

"What did I tell you? I'm not cute! Now get going before I kick your ass." Lovino muttered, trying to hide his red face.

"You're even cuter when you're embarrassed." He laughed as Lovino punched him on the arm and pushed past him.

"Screw you."

"Aw, Lovi. Don't be like that!"

Lovino sighed. This man was going to be the death of him.

* * *

 **I hope you liked this chapter. Thank you for reading and for those who have reviewed. I really appreciate hearing your feedback and if you've enjoyed it! Not sure when the next update will be but stay tuned!**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)**_

 **Chapter 13**

"So what's this damn meeting about?" Lovino began as soon as he walked into the room. He and Antonio plopped down on the free sofa facing his grandfather's desk. On the other matching sofa seat were Ludwig and Feliciano, the smaller of which had his hands wrapped around one of the blonde's muscular arms. Lovino glared daggers at the German, though the man pretended not to notice, much to Lovino's dissatisfaction.

Lovino crossed his arms with a huff. If he could, he'd like to make it as evident as possible that he didn't take too kindly to the sudden interruption from moments before. Antonio looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye, a small smile falling onto his lips. He lifted his hand to his lover's auburn locks, letting his hand press down some strands that were visibly disheveled—no doubt from their previous activities. Irritated, the Italian swatted him away and focused his sharp gaze on his waiting grandfather.

When everyone seemed to have settled in, the old man spoke. "I apologize for the late notice, but we just got a tip. We believe we have discovered who has been after you."

A thick intensity entered the air, all the men in the room sitting up a little straighter.

"Do you have an ID on the culprit?" Ludwig asked, not so furtively glancing at Feliciano, whose grip was tightening on his arm. With a pleasant smile, Nonno picked up a small remote and pressed it.

On the right side of the room, an image appeared on the flat-screen TV. Multiple photos of a red symbol flashed onto the screen—a red sword sticking through two red circles intertwined with each other. Lovino had the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He assumed it was a mafia symbol most likely of one of the other families. But who's?

Noticing their empty expressions, Nonno chuckled. "I see you've been away for too long, Romano," He said before clicking the button again and revealing another photo.

Lovino abruptly stood up, all eyes turning to him in curiosity.

"No fucking way." He uttered out incredulously.

There, like a ghost from the past, was a man he hadn't spoken to or thought of in years. He still had his blonde hair slicked up in a spiky pattern, and wore an unamused expression with a cigarette hanging from his lips. On his arm was the red sign. Suddenly knowledge of the mark came back to him. Nonno just smirked.

"Lars Visser. Age 25. Originally from the Netherlands. However, he moved to America when he was five. You recognize him, yes?"

"I wish I didn't." Lovino muttered, recalling the time he interacted with the aloof Nederlander. "We all were in the home school program together. He's part of the Vissers, a big—but not as big as us, or course—mafia family that I'm pretty sure hates us. He was so competitive and vindictive, that bastard. It gets my blood boiling just thinking about him."

Antonio, who was not the least surprised with his boyfriend's long list of enemies, brought his eyes back to the screen. "Ah, but I thought home school programs were done at home?"

"Mostly. But mafia family instructions are different. Once a week we were forced to meet with the other kids to keep up 'appearances'," Lovino used his fingers to emphasize the quotation marks—"or whatever the hell that means."

"Lovino, you know it's beneficial to be familiar with future mafia leaders." Nonno frowned, "And just to have friends in general."

His grandson scoffed and muttered under his breath, "who needs damn friends?" before sitting down again.

Antonio smiled, directing his attention back to the group. "So maybe he didn't like the Vargases. Is that enough for him to try to kill Lovi and Feli off?"

Nonno stared at Lovino, as if he was the answer to Antonio's inquiry. The young man had a funny look on his face, like he was trying hard to not burst out a confession.

"Well, uh, I kind of humiliated him in front of all the other kids...and their parents."

"You what?!" Antonio was surprised to find he wasn't the only one who had shouted that out.

Not expecting the outburst, Lovino crossed his arms in defense. "Well, I didn't mean to. It was after Feli disappeared... and I didn't really have an outlet for my anger. He and I were arguing after school was done and he challenged me to a fight. He was coming at me and I flipped him over my head in front of everyone," Lovino eyed his audience cautiously before adding, "...right into the mud."

A loud sigh echoed through the room. Antonio let his head hang as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

"That'll do it..."

The Italian grimaced, a slight feeling of guilt falling over him. "Well, I didn't _know_ they were standing there."

And he really didn't. Everyone sort of just appeared out of nowhere, condemning the boys for participating in such petty fights, but, most of all, denouncing the boy who lost. The boy who looked back at Lovino with hateful eyes and a hissing promise that Lovino would pay.

Lovino swallowed. Now that he thought about it, how could he forget such a thing? Nonno cleared his throat.

"So now that we have a motive and there have been photographs taken at the scenes of attempted attacks with this symbol, the Vissers look like likely suspects."

"The whole family? Or just him?" Antonio asked. A slight smile, not nearly meeting the edges of Nonno's chiseled face, greeted the Spaniard.

"Mafia families work as a unit. If you are the enemy of one of the members, then you are the enemy of the whole family. Do you understand?"

Antonio nodded thoughtfully.

Nonno shut off the screen and stared at the four men in his office. "The mafia world is all about staking a claim. There's only so much area to go around, and thus conflict between families is inevitable. We've had a long rivalry with the Vissers, who have come quite close a few times to overtaking us. Especially in recent years. I've tried to work out treaties with them numerous times, but they're determined to not cooperate. It's very likely you've made a dangerous enemy."

His eyes were directed right at Lovino, who looked away indignantly.

A perplexed expression fell over Feli's face as he scratched at his cheek. "Ve~ This is a lot to take in..."

Nonno smiled in a way that was only meant for the younger Italian. Lovino frowned. It made Lovino remember all the times his grandfather had favored him over the eldest, which was often when they were younger.

"Ah, not to worry. I do not expect you to understand everything just yet. The Vargas guards will watch over you until we've squared all of this out. You've need to rest up. Why don't you all take this time to relax and recover your energy?"

The four men nodded, moving to get up before Nonno spoke again.

"Now boys, if you'd please, I would like to speak with your companions alone."

Lovino blinked before a scowl took over his mouth.

"What?! No you're not—" Lovino stepped forward, only to be cut off by a firm but gentle grip on his arm. He looked back to Antonio, who gave him a warm smile. Antonio slid his hand down the Italian's arm, linking their fingers together in a light hold.

"It's fine, Lovi. We can handle it." Lovino furrowed his brows.

"But..." He trailed off as he stared into the Spaniard's emerald eyes. Lovino felt his resolve weakening. It was as if those eyes had a power over him, making him feel like everything would be all right.

"Ok..." he conceded, "But i'm coming to get you in ten minutes, you hear?" Lovino shot a pointed look at his grandfather, who was watching their exchange with a curious expression. When he realized Lovino was referring to him, Nonno grinned.

"No need to worry, m'boy. We're just going to have a nice little chat."

"Sure..." Lovino muttered sarcastically, releasing Antonio's hands and stepping away. Lovino took one last glance over his shoulder before grabbing his brother—who was clinging to a flustered Ludwig for dear life—by the back of his collar and leaving the room.

Now in the hallway, the two brothers paced back and forth. With an overly emphasized sigh, Feliciano finally sat down on the floor cross-legged.

"Lovi, what do you think Nonno is telling them? Do you think it's bad?"

There was a hint of worry in his brother's tone, one that Lovino failed to ignore. Halting his movements, the older brother leaned against the blue swirl designs that decorated the walls.

"I don't know, Feli. Damn Nonno and his games. I wish we could somehow—" Lovino paused for a moment, making Feliciano look up to see why his brother had stopped.

"What is it?"

Lovino smoothly pushed himself off the wall, his eyes shining with renewed enthusiasm. "Remember that one time when we were playing in the piano room upstairs and heard voices coming from a vent?"

The boy on the floor blinked a few times, his brows furrowed in confusion before a bright smile came over his face. "That's right! When we looked further, we could see and hear into Nonno's office!"

The elder nodded, pulling up his brother and dashing down the hall. The boys ran up the wooden staircase on their right, passing a maid who cursed at them to watch where they were going. They threw half-hearted apologies over their shoulders before continuing up the stairway. Finding the piano room, they dived for the gold vent and found themselves pushing and shoving each other like they were children again.

"Ah! Lovi, you're on my foot." Feli complained as he pulled his shoe towards himself.

"Move over, idiota! I can't see." Lovino whispered fiercely, elbowing his brother out of the way. When they heard a loud noise come from below, the brothers quieted and peered in to the vent for a closer look.

There they looked down into Nonno's office, taking in the scene in front of them. Both of their companions were standing with faces of anger directed at the Vargas boss, who had a neutral but serious expression on his face. By the looks of it, something must have happened while they were busy finding the vent. Making the first move, Antonio stepped forward.

"What did you say?"

A stern glare greeted him. The joking, amicable man they had seen only moments before was gone, replaced with the professional mafia boss who ruled over the Vargas legacy.

"I said, give up on my grandsons."

Feliciano and Lovino tensed at their grandfather's words. Neither could understand why their grandfather had asked for such a request. Sharing a look, the brothers' brought their attention back to the exchange below.

Antonio's hands were clenched into tight fists. One look at his expression clearly revealed that he was angry. Lovino had only seen this side of Antonio several times, and every time the amount of passion he had burning in his eyes surprised him.

"Why would you wish for us to do such a thing? Didn't you ask us to protect them?"

Nonno nodded in agreement. "I did. However, you are your own men, and can make your own decisions without having to humor an old man like me." The Italian sported a look of tiredness. "Antonio, Ludwig. No matter what situation you met them in, you mustn't overlook the fact that Romano and Feliciano are the heirs to one of the most notorious criminal organizations in America. Just because you know them personally doesn't change that fact. They may be in danger because of their connections, possibly for the rest of their lives. Your lives included." With fierce eyes, the old man deadpanned.

"So, if you're wise, you'll get out while you can. You are good men and deserve peaceful lives and safe existences. I must be frank with you: you may not find it here."

Like a loud drum, Lovino's heart was beating out of his chest. He had to bite down on his lip just to prevent himself from yelling at his grandfather to stop. How could his grandfather propose something like that? Just when Lovino finally let Antonio in, Nonno was going to push him away? What kind of bullshit was this?

But Lovino knew he couldn't say anything. Nonno was right: Antonio should know what he was getting himself into. Lovino wasn't allowed to decide what Antonio wanted. If Antonio chose a life filled with concord and simplicity over Lovino, he cared about him enough to let him have that. When he felt a cold hand slip into his, Lovino clenched it reassuringly. It seemed like Feli was also having the same kind of thoughts.

"With all due respect, Mr. Vargas, I appreciate your concern, but I refuse your request."

All eyes rested on Ludwig, who had been quiet since the exchange began. His stern face glowed with conviction as he stood his ground against the mafia boss.

Crossing his arms, Nonno raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

Ludwig seemed to struggle in finding the right words. Then, bravely, he looked up.

"Meeting and taking care of Feliciano has changed my life, more than I thought anyone ever could. I used to not care-to keep a distance from everyone. Yet he has brought light into my colorless world. Feli needs me... j-just as much as I need him. He is very dear to me."

A tightening grip on his hand alerted Lovino to look over at his younger brother. He was surprised to find silent tears streaming down Feli's cheeks as the boy gazed at the blonde man.

Noticing his brother's curious glance, Feli gave him a polite smile, speaking just above a whisper.

"Making our way here was really hard on me. On the both of us. I've tried getting closer to Ludwig, trying to break down his walls. But... he's pushed me away every time. I know he's been doing it to protect me, but I wasn't sure if I meant as much to him as he did to me. So... just hearing him say all that, hearing that he chose _me_ when he had his chance to go—" he laughed while he wiped his cheeks, "—i'm so happy."

"Idiota, he should be the one lucky to have you."

Feli laughed quietly.

"Grazie, fratello."

Lovino squeezed his brother's hand reassuringly before turning back to the scene in front of them. Antonio still hadn't answered, and he'd be lying if his heart rate hadn't shot up dangerously high every second of waiting.

"I see." Nonno rubbed his chin, directing his attention to the Spaniard. "And you, Antonio? What's your decision?"

Antonio's expression had calmed a bit once he seemed to realize the purpose of the grandfather's suggestion. However, the fire that had been brewing in his eyes never left him.

"It doesn't matter. I choose Lovi, both as a mafia boss' grandson and the amazing man I have come to know. No matter what danger, I'll stay by his side for as long as he'll have me."

Staring at the Spaniard's unwavering eyes, listening to his words—Lovino pressed his trembling lips together and clenched his heart with his free hand.

 _Oh dio._ It was at that moment that Lovino realized how far he was in. If he had any hesitancy before, there was no doubt now.

Lovino was completely in love with Antonio.

Nonno stared the boys down, his tense expression not weakening. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the old man let out a light chuckle. Moving away from his desk, Nonno clasped both of their shoulders and gave them a few pats.

"I'm glad you boys made the right choice. Romano, Feliciano, you can come down from there now."

The men in the office heard a bang and a loud "Eep!". It wasn't too long before Feli burst through the doors and ran into the surprised German's arms.

"Oh Luddy, did you really mean all that? Are you really ok staying with me?"

As he took in Feli's words, Ludwig's face turned several shades redder. "You...you... heard all that?"

Feliciano looked ashamed, but nodded hastily as he clenched his eyes shut as he hugged him. Ludwig swallowed before hesitantly petting the Italian's head.

"Y-yes. I-um—" he cleared his throat, "I meant it."

With renewed tears, Feli squeezed the German harder. "I'm so happy, ve~ Hug me, Luddy."

As the two men shared a moment, Lovino revealed himself from behind the door. He moved into the room, his hands casually hanging in his jean pockets.

"Lovi."

His eyes caught bright, emerald green ones. His realization from moments before came back to him. Trying to suppress a blush, Lovino averted his eyes to focus on the old man next to him.

His signature glare greeted Nonno. "How did you know?"

His grandfather grinned, pointing one finger at the location of the vents of the right side of the room. "You both used to leave your toys over there all the time."

Lovino clicked his tongue at the thought of getting caught and grabbed Antonio's hand. The taller squeezed his hand and greeted him with a sweet smile, which Lovino attempted to ignore. Pulling the Spanish man towards the doors, the older Italian gave a wave over his shoulder.

"We're out of here."

Noticing their departure, Feli detached himself from Ludwig's muscular chest to run over to his brother.

"Oh, Lovi! I was hoping we could hang out a little longer, maybe make some pasta..." the younger man twiddled his thumbs together like he was a child asking for something he wasn't sure he could have.

"I have a job to do, idiota. Does it look like I have free time?" An expression of disappointment fell over him until Lovino sighed and added, "But... I don't mind staying for pasta."

A huge smile spread over the boy's face and, with no hesitation, lunged to wrap his brother in a hug. Lovino halfheartedly struggled a bit before returning the hug. The longer he stayed in his brother's arms, the longer he became overcome with sentimentality.

"I'm so glad to have you back, Feli." Lovino whispered, earning a giggle from the boy in his arms. Physically nodding, Feli whispered back.

"I'm not going anywhere, fratello."

Just as quickly as Feli had hugged him he released him, running off to ask Nonno if he could use the kitchen to cook. Finally free to leave, Lovino glanced at Antonio, who was inspecting a wooden cabinet filled with various antiques.

A slight tug on his shirt pulled the Spaniard out of his musings.

"Come on, bastard."

Antonio nodded and said a quick goodbye to the others before following Lovino out into the hallway. When Antonio almost made a wrong turn, the Italian rolled his eyes and laced their fingers together, mumbling something about him getting lost without him as they went up a staircase. The Spaniard only smiled, noticing the slight redness on the scowling Italian's cheeks and commenting how cute Lovino looked before earning a light jab in the stomach.

Pushing open a heavy metal door, the two men came to the top of the Vargas estate. It was like a private garden with various flowers and statues. Lovino lead him through an archway and down a winding path.

Nearing the end of the pathway, Lovino stopped them both so they could look out on the city of Chicago. Antonio momentarily thought back to their time on the bridge, when they had first opened up to each other. It seemed like so long ago. Feeling Lovino's hand slip out of his, the Spaniard watched as Lovino walked towards the railing.

The boy leaned his elbows on the metal bar. A quiet breeze passed them

"This was my favorite place to escape to when I was younger. Whenever things seemed overwhelming... or I wanted to reflect on something... This is the place i'd go to."

Antonio stayed silent. He sensed that Lovino had a larger purpose for bringing him up there.

"I used to come up here in high school and just looked out at the city." He paused when he noticed Antonio had come to stand next to him, mirroring his actions. "You know that moment when the sun begins to disappear over the horizon? It only happens for a bit, but the sun casts this coral color on the sky and the clouds are drenched in this warm pinkish hue. The thing is: it's not just a sunset—it's a feeling. It has an effect on everything and everyone it reaches. In that moment, it makes the world feel like a better place. It's magical."

Lovino turned his face to look at Antonio, whose eyes hadn't left Lovino since he began talking. Hesitantly, he reached his hand over to feel a dark curl on the side of the Spaniard's face.

"I've...i've never met anyone who embodies that feeling more than you."

Not able to resist anymore, Antonio pulled the Italian into his arms.

"Lovi...you're so beautiful~" The boy struggled against him.

"Bastard, let go of me! You didn't even let me finish! Damn it!"

"Ah, lo siento. I couldn't help myself. Please, continue."

Lovino stopped fighting and pouted. He leaned away but still stayed in the Spaniard's arms. Wrapping his limbs loosely around Antonio's torso, the man looked down.

"So I just wanted to say—thank you."

Raising a hand to caress the soft hair on the Italian's head, Antonio cooed, "What for, mi querido?"

"What you said back there in the office... the way you've been there for me after all that's happened... I've just realized i've never said thank you."

Antonio just grinned, pressing a light kiss to his forehead and resting his own against his.

"I'm always going to fight for you, Lovi. For us. For our future."

A red tint covered the Italian's face. A small cough covered up his true feelings nicely.

"You're such a sappy bastard."

"Only for you, my sweet Lovino."

Lovino scoffed in response, yet chose to close his eyes instead of speaking further and ruining the calamity that had settled over them. He could feel the small puffs of breath on his face, and thrilling shivers that slid down his back all the way to his feet. The two men stayed like that, sharing a peaceful moment before Lovino felt Antonio's mouth stretch into a smile.

"Lovi?"

"Hmm…?" He hummed, not ready to let go of the placidity just yet.

"Let me take you out. Next weekend. You and me."

Lovino finally opened his eyes—right into a sea of sparkling emerald. (That was another magical moment that Lovino loved: when the sun hit Antonio's green eyes and made them sparkle like crystals.)

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Si."

Pulling back from the Spaniard's hold, the Italian pretended to mull over the offer.

"That depends." He dribbled his fingers on his toned shoulders. "What does it involve?"

"It involves... food... fun... entertainment..." With a mischievous eye, Antonio added, "A devilishly handsome man at your side."

Lovino smirked. He ran a hand over the Spaniard's chest.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"So...?" Antonio leaned forward, biting his lip in anticipation.

"I'm free Saturday."

"Perfect." The smile Antonio gave him was what Lovino would consider his definition of 'perfect.' Lovino pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping his fingers into his.

"Now, bastard, let's go get some pasta."

~x~

Feliciano was already in the kitchen by the time the couple went back downstairs. Humming a soft tune, he was too preoccupied with a large pot of steaming pasta to notice the additional presence.

The Spaniard pushed past the Italian and made his way over to the big, silver refrigerator. Lovino arched an eyebrow, watching his boyfriend move around like he owned the place.

Antonio opened up a drawer and pulled out a few juicy red tomatoes. Holding them up, Antonio grinned at Lovino, who had his arms crossed and was leaning on the door frame.

"I found these babies earlier. Shall we cut them?" Lovino smirked, lifting his weight off the wall to make his way towards Antonio.

"Bastard, you beat me to it."

Looking back at the pair, Feliciano smiled at them.

"Ah, Lovi! Antonio! The pasta is almost ready."

Antonio peered at the dishes on the stove. "It's looking fantastico, Feli! Gracias!"

He then went off to go wash the tomatoes while the older Italian came to stand next to his brother, snatching the ladle to the sauce pan from his hands to take a taste. The boy smacked his lips in deep thought and turned to Feli.

"Not bad. I see you haven't lost your touch."

Feliciano giggled, raising the spoon to taste the sauce as well.

"I did all the cooking back at Roderich's home," He paused in thought, "And cleaning. And gardening. And laundry."

Lovino leaned down and pulled out a cutting board, which he placed in the empty area to the right of the stove. Antonio came up next to him and placed the clean tomatoes on the counter. Pulling out two knives from a nearby holder, Antonio handed one to Lovino.

As they carefully sliced the tomatoes, Lovino looked at his brother.

"What was it like there?"

The boy smiled sincerely. "It's a good place. They're such nice people, Lovi. They took a good care of me. I'd love for you to meet them someday."

Lovino pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands idling as he started to cut into the second tomato. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Antonio leave the kitchen towards the dining room, most likely to set the table.

"I just can't believe Nonno didn't tell us anything this whole time. You're not planning to go back...right?"

It took a moment for Feli to answer, longer than Lovino liked.

"I-I don't know."

That wasn't what Lovino expected to hear. He reflected his disbelief with a frown, not that Feliciano was looking at him. His eyes were burning holes into the pasta. "What do you mean you 'don't know'?"

"Well...I mean... that's been my home for the last eight years. I grew up there." He said in a small voice. Lovino's anger only grew as he put down the knife and clenched the sides of the granite counter top.

"You grew up _here_ , Feli. This is your home."

Feliciano finally looked up at him— vehement eyes that Lovino had never witnessed before from his brother.

"Fratello, this hasn't been our home for a very long time. You haven't lived here, either." Lovino moved to open him mouth, but closed it. When Feli saw his expression, he explained, "Nonno told me."

The younger boy sighed, clenching the ladle. "What I mean to say is...we left this place a long time ago, Lovi. Whether we wanted to or not. We were forced to change and I-I think that's okay." A large, genuine smile covered his face, one that was directed right at Lovino, "In the end, it doesn't matter where you or I go, as long as we're there for each other, ve?"

Lovino looked at his brother— _really_ looked at him, as if he was seeing for the first time. Feliciano had always been the crybaby, the one that leaned on Lovino for support, and someone people naturally wanted to protect. It was in that moment that Lovino realized Feliciano wasn't exactly the same helpless brother he had scolded years before for being careless and air-headed. Well—he was still like that, but he had grown in a lot of ways Lovino hadn't noticed. Feliciano could look after himself.

The edges of Lovino's lips slightly curved up before he could help it. Trying to distract himself, the man snatched the knife again and finished cutting the last few slices.

"Who would have thought the day would come when my idiot of a brother would be advising _me_."

Feliciano giggled, turning off the stove.

"I think the food is done now~"

As they heard footsteps approaching, Antonio's voice joined them.

"It smells great, Feli! Do you need help bringing anything to the table?"

His hands grabbed the metal pot and took it to the sink, pouring the water in a strainer. The boy nodded without looking at him.

"Yes, please. Can you grab the bread out of the oven? Grazie!"

Feli headed out of the kitchen. Antonio came to stand on Lovino's right, knocking shoulders with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Lovino glanced at him inquisitively.

"You're a good brother, Lovi." Antonio said in a low voice near his ear, as if it was a secret for them to share. The Italian didn't have enough time to turn to him before he felt a quick peck on the cheek.

Lovino stumbled back in embarrassment, rubbing his cheek with his free hand.

"What the hell, bastard?" When the man grabbed the plate of tomatoes and started to walk away, Lovino yelled after him, "Get back here!"

The man just laughed, escaping to the safety of the dining room before Lovino could beat him to a pulp.

Cursing, yet struggling to keep down a grin, Lovino grabbed the last pot on the stove. The Italian entered the dining room, where Feliciano, Antonio, Ludwig, and Nonno had taken their seats. Antonio grinned at him across the room, patting the seat next to him like someone saving their best friend a seat at lunch time. Lovino rolled his eyes, but walked over to him and put the pot down on the table.

As they all sat there at dinner, arguing over what were the best kinds of pasta and Antonio massaging circles on his hand under the table, Lovino could almost imagine the peaceful life his grandfather had in mind, with no hits or danger lurking around every corner.

But who said that was a better life, anyway?

Lovino gave Antonio's hand a light squeeze, earning him a reassuring smile.

This one seemed pretty good to him.

* * *

 **Hey everyone! So soooo sorry for the wait. This semester had been way busy but now i'm free (ish, ok not really). I do plan to have this finished this summer. There are only 3 chapters left!**

 **I focused a bit more on Gerita in this chapter, so I hope you enjoyed a better glimpse into their relationship. They're canon in my eyes pretty much haha. I am sorry not sorry for the amount of fluff in this fic (probably the reason I have cavities every time I head to the dentist), but i'm addicted to it!** **Next chapter is their long awaited date as a couple (because they really haven't gone on a proper one) and that is where the rating will go up to M ;) (i've been waiting all year for this moment lol). So stay tuned~**


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